


The Call of the Mountains

by whitenightowl



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 45,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitenightowl/pseuds/whitenightowl
Summary: In the beginning Claire and Frank Randall are still married and having their holiday in Scotland. Jamie is a sheep farmer, living in Lallybroch. The multichapter fic is originally published in Tumbrl.





	1. As if the moist wind was whispering into her ear

Admiring the hilly horizon, all those mountains and munros now covered in blue mist, Claire felt that she was finally able to breathe freely.

She would not have thought, being more like a city-girl, that the Scottish scenery would have affected her so much. But it did, being so peaceful and eternal.  
It was somehow much wiser than any human as if the mountains knew all the stories and secrets of people once had wandered there.  
She was captivated by those simple shapes, dirty colors and deep shadows. Even heavily pregnant clouds, clinging to the mountains, seemed to have stories of their own.

She had an eerie feeling of deja-vu which made her shiver a little and pull the long sleeves of her grey mohair sweater to cover her fingers.  
She felt as if the moist wind was whispering into her ear. Saying: this is where you truly belong.

Two men were talking just next to her but she only caught a word here and there. Agriculture… sheep… taxes… weather…  
She tried to focus but it was like she could hear the frequency of human speech no more. Only the alluring call of the mountains.

She let her eyes linger on the younger man. He was as Scottish as the enigmatic landscape around them: very tall, broad-shouldered and masculine with auburn hair and wide smile.  
His hands - holding the old shepherd´s crook - were large, beautiful and calloused. She could not help wondering how old he was. Perhaps in his mid thirties? How had he ended up living here? Did he hear the mountains as well?

“Claire?” Frank´s voice brought her back. Only one word and she could tell her husband was irritated.

“What? I´m sorry, did you say something?”

“Ach, I was just asking if ye wanna see the dogs at work”, said the other man, the one she had just so intensively observed.

Dogs, oh yes. Sheep dogs. Frank had wanted to visit a traditional sheep farm during their vacation in Scotland - to see a real Highland way of life, as he reasoned - so here they were.  
With this young farmer, who was now eager to show them his dogs.

“They are transporting sheep from the hills, ye ken. Doing most of the work. Couldna make it without them”, he continued with a lovely accent of rolling “R”s. His piercing blue eyes were smiling at her and  
for a brief short second Claire was sure that he was able to read her mind. Her previous thoughts.

A sudden embarrassment rushed through her veins. “Yeah, sure. It would be lovely to see them”, she muttered while a blush was working its way up her neck.

She gave a quick look at Frank and realised that his lips were tightened. He said nothing, just turned his back to Claire and went on talking with the farmer.  
Claire followed the men to the field where long-coated and horned lambs were grazing. With a slight sense of guilt, she continued observing the young farmer. His wide back while he moved.  
How he wiped his curly red hair out of his face. How he now instructed his dogs with almost invisible signs, whistles and commands. Clearly he knew what he was doing. Authority radiated from him.

 _“No wonder the dogs are following him…I would…”_ She did not let herself finish the thought.  
“God. Beauchamp. What the hell is the matter with you!”, she hissed to herself. Almost terrified.

Still feeling a little distracted, she now made herself focus on the conversation.

“So, Mr. Fraser, was it? Have you had this place for a long time? It certainly looks rather old”, she heard Frank asking.

Claire glanced at the stone main building peeking out behind feral garden and old barns. It was monumental and old indeed. Climbing yellow roses had almost conquered one wall.  
The entrance to the yard went through an arched stone gate. The place was breathtakingly beautiful - if you happened to like slightly shabby old mansions.

“Aye, it has belonged to my family for generations. Built in the 17th century.”

“Living history then. How fascinating,” Frank started to prattle. “Your house has actually seen the ‘45 rising, then. I´m doing research at the Oxford University and writing a book of the Jacobites at the moment.  
That´s why we are in Scotland. I´m doing a little research while we stay in Inverness. That time period is extremely interesting, don´t you think? One of my ancestors actually fought at the Battle of Culloden,  
in the English side of course.”

“Of course”, Fraser said briefly and Claire could sense him tensing.

Frank did not seem to notice. Claire had witnessed this countless times. He just could not resist talking about his favorite topic, no matter who his conversation partner was.

“Perhaps our ancestors met on that bloody moor. Are you familiar with your own family history?”, Frank continued.

To Claire his tone sounded far too light. There werea few seconds of silence. Then the young man gathered himself. “Aye. Perhaps. There were lots of Frasers on the front lines of Culloden.”

“Mr. Fraser, that round… house.. over there. What is that?”, Claire blurted and pointed at the half collapsed stone building near the main house. She usually let Frank handle his own controversies,  
but now she was urged to move the conversation onto safer ground.

“Oh, that´s an old tower, broch, as it is called in Gaelic. The farm is actually named after it - Broch Tuarach - north-facing tower, that is”, Fraser explained, all tension disappearing as soon as he turned to Claire.

“North-facing tower…I see… but how a round building can face north or any other particular direction?” she wondered frowning her eyebrows.

“Ah, ye are a witty one. A story tells that once there was a door facing north”, he answered with laughter.

There it was again. Familiarity. Connection. Something she could not name, but could not deny either.

“Are you living here all by yourself?” she dared to ask. Looking up at him rather shyly. “I mean, it must take a whole lot of work to maintain a place like this.”

“Aye, I´ve got an extra pair of hands helping me sometimes, but usually it´s just me working my arse off”, he grinned.

Suddenly Claire wanted to know so much more. Like to whom those extra hands belonged to. He was not wearing a ring but that didn´t mean he wouldn´t have someone in his life.  
But that she could not ask. Of course not. She felt that she already had talked too much.

He looked at her as if waiting for her to say something. When she stayed silent, he turned once again to his dogs and started to explain how they worked.  
“They think algorithmically, ye ken. Analyze the state of a herd and then choose the best action…”

* * *

 

Herding demonstration took another twenty minutes. They were standing side by side in the misty field while six dogs were running around the lambs and scooting wherever Fraser wanted them to.  
Frank grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. Even kissed her forehead. Claire was surprised as he did not usually show his feelings publicly, but she tried to smile and look happy for him.

It started to drizzle. Very small and light drops.

“I hope ye dinna mind the rain”, Fraser said immediately. Not waiting for the answer, he gave his oilskin jacket to Claire. “Here, take this. Ye dinna want to ruin your sweater.”

“Oh. I´m alright really”, she tried to resist but it was in vain. Frank took two steps aside as she draped the big oilskin around her shoulders. It was heavy and warm. Comforting.

She tried to act normal but could not help inhaling his own scent above the mouldy tang of the jacket. _Beauchamp! it´s the scent of a man who most definitely is not your husband!_

Again she had to tear herself away from these surreal sensations.

She was overwhelmed. This was not like her at all. She was not a flirtatious type, let alone unfaithful. She was not completely happy in her marriage, but who the hell was?  
She had not let emotions run her life and had always found herself rational when making big decisions in life.

So what was this nonsense of whispering winds and red-haired shepherds? Claire thought it would be best to put a stop to all this mad daydreaming. “Frank, don´t you think we ought to leave soon? To reach Inverness before dark?” _And to get my head on straight again._

When saying goodbyes, she let Frank do the talking. It had been his idea to come to this bloody place, after all, she thought defensively. She just smiled vaguely, avoiding all eye contact.

When she finally got in their car she let out a deep sigh of relief - and to be true, that of sadness as well. Mr. Fraser. She did not even get to know his first name. And she probably would never see him again.

She turned her head for a one final glimpse of the old house. Broch Tuarach. No doubt she would remember this place. But now. It was time to go back to a normal life.

Except back to normal it did not go.

After all those distracting thoughts and odd feelings, Claire would not have minded silence, but Frank interrupted it almost immediately. “Did you get wet?” His voice was like ice, cold and judgmental.

She turned to look at him not really knowing what to expect. “No, I´m perfectly fine. It did not rain as –”

“That´s not what I meant”, he snapped.“You were drooling over that guy! Practically fucking him with your eyes!”

Claire gasped for air. “What! Are you insane? That´s not tr…”, she protested.

“You thought I wouldn´t see? Like a bitch in heat! And right under my nose.”

“You.. You bloody… I don´t believe you actually said that. You must be out of your mind!”, she shouted.

“Mr. Fraser, are you living here all by yourself”, he mimicked her with a sardonic tone. “Oh Claire, you are just so pathetic. Just pretending to be so innocent.”

“Stop… being so rude. Just stop. Please”, she pleaded. She did not want to cry in front of him but felt how the hot tears started to force their way out over her lashes.

“Did you give him your number, behind my back?, Frank pushed further and squeezed her thigh.

It hurt. She knew that there would be a bruise tomorrow. Oh God, she thought. Not this, not again.


	2. Who am I? Who is Claire Randall?

The beach cottage on the shore of Moray Firth was the most romantic place. Just perfect for lovers who needed a private getaway and wanted to enjoy each other.  
There were huge panoramic windows and stunning sea views. Claire opened the door to the bedroom and gasped - whole room was now lit by several vintage lanterns and casting it in golden light.  
On the bedside table there was a sexy black bottle of cava and two glasses.

“I asked Mrs. Graham to make it ready for us”, Frank said behind her. “I thought you`d prefer a little privacy and not to stay at reverend Wakefield´s, so…”

Claire did not know what to say. After Frank´s mad jealousy and furious accusations, they had driven to Inverness in complete silence.

Now this -  the contrast was just too heavy. Her chest felt tight. She put down her luggage and tried to calm down.

Could not. Tears began flooding down her cheeks again.

“The cottage belongs to the reverend´s cousin. It did not cost us much. There should be dolphins and seals living in that bay.  
And you can go swimming first thing in the morning. Or take long walks on the beach when I work, if you like”, Frank continued his monologue.

_Dear God. He has really tried._

“Claire”, this time his voice cracked.

He came to her and tentatively put his hands on her shoulders. Breathed into her hair. “Darling. Sweet darling. Hush now. Don´t cry…”

Slowly he turned her, pulled her against him and lift her chin for a kiss.

And she let him.

Claire knew that she should be still angry with him or at least expect an apology but she had no strength for words. None whatsoever.

“I know it has been rough for us lately. But I´m ready to leave all that behind…this could be a new beginning”, he murmured into her ear stroking her back.  
“And I thought this would be a perfect place for making the baby”, he whispered and started to pull up her sweater.

It was the last thing she remembered him saying.

Her mind was blank. It was as if she was floating outside of her body and watching two strangers having sex in the enormous king size bed. Afterwards she escaped into a very deep sleep.

* * *

In the morning Frank was gone.

“Darling! Did not want to wake you. Went to Highland Archive Centre. I´ll be back for dinner. F. ”

The note was left on the kitchen table.

They had not drink that cava last night but Claire still had a wry taste in her mouth. She walked around the kitchen not really knowing what to do. Mrs. Graham had left them food in the fridge, she noticed.  
Good. She took a big red apple, peeled it carefully and just stared out of the window for a very long time. 

_Who am I? Who is Claire Randall? What has happened to me? What has happened to us?_

The questions crisscrossed in her mind.

_Oh bollocks.. I’ve got to get out._

She grabbed the wine and a warm felt and headed to the beach. Frank was surely right about one thing, she thought: A long walk would do her good.

She wandered for an hour and let the salt sea wind caress her face. She threw some perfectly round stones into the water. Tried to spot dolphins but could not see any.  
Drank some sparkling cava straight out of the bottle. Then she found a perfect big rock for meditation and climbed on it.  
This time the wind was not whispering to her or perhaps she was too busy to hear it. Too busy lost in her own thoughts.  

She was now 29. She’d been practically a child when they wed almost ten years ago. The early years were happy - that she could remember.  
A 20-year-old Claire Randall worshiped her academic husband who had opened up a whole new world for her. He was over 10 years older and so experienced, civilized and well-mannered.

He was the one who took her virginity. He taught her to love a man, all those hundreds of ways to enjoy her body as well his.  
Sex had been their way to connect. To find a way back to each other during those years when Frank was living abroad working as a visiting scholar and they did not often see each other.

Little over a year ago he had gotten a permanent post as an assistant professor at Oxford. Oh, how she had longed for it - they would finally have a proper home.  
A real life could start. They started to talk about children. She stopped taking pills.

But then came that horrible night.

It divided her life into “before” and “after”. That night Frank´s doctoral student was throwing a party and like everyone else, she too, had drank just a little too much of that deceptive punch.  
Feeling more than a little tipsy she had agreed to dance with one of Frank´s colleagues. The man had been canned, told her some stupid dirty jokes, danced like a maniac and yes, at some point,  
grabbed her ass. Laughing, she had left the man standing on the dance floor, but that was not how Frank had seen it.

“You cheap slut!”

They were walking home that night and Frank´s rude words just came out of the blue. Before she actually understood what what was happening, he had pushed her to the nearest ditch.

Afterwards he claimed that she was so wasted that she had stumbled into the ditch herself. And he pointed out that he would not have said anything if only she had not been so provocative and overly flirtatious with his colleague.  
She did not believe a word but after two days fighting they both got too tired to talk about the incident anymore.

It was the first time he called her a slut. Unfortunately not the last one. That night broke the dam and floods of his jealousy started to poison their relationship.

He always seemed to have an explanation. If she only had or had not… So she tried and tried even harder. Verbally - telling him over and over again that he was the only one.  
To avoid all misunderstandings and conflicts, she started to pay more attention to her clothing and communicating with the opposite sex.  
No more ample cleavage to attract looks from men or mini skirts to show off her legs. It had been just easier that way.

_God damned, I have even told my male friends not to text or call me after 7 when Frank is at home._

Claire took a good draught of wine and pulled the wool tighter around her shoulders. Suddenly she realised that her life had shrunk in around Frank in a way she definitely did not want to.  
She was spending too much of her energy anticipating his feelings and moods. And had became too used to it.

Of course, there were happy moments. Even weeks when he was tender, romantic and passionate. But somehow it made it even worse. Just when she started to believe nothing bad would ever happen again,  
he pulled the rug from under her feet.

Just like he did last night.

She still felt a little guilty, though. Previously, when Frank had accused her, she had been certain she had not done anything. But yesterday, yes, she had had thoughts about that handsome young farmer.

And somehow Frank had seen through her.

_Oh fuck. If I only had another bottle of wine, I would just stay on this beach the rest of my days._

Her mobile started to beep, just in time to remind her there was still a world outside and staying on the beach was hardly an option. It was Frank, of course.

_Thank God he texted. Would not want to talk to him right now._

“Hi, need you to check some numbers for me. There is a big envelope in my suitcase. Please call when you find it.”

“On the beach right now. I´ll check it asap”, she answered briefly.

“Please hurry, really need them”, he replied immediately.

_Why am I always such a nice girl?_ she sighed to herself and started to trudge towards the cottage.

* * *

The envelope was easy to find. There were thick bundles of documents about the Jacobite uprising, of course, and Frank was pleased to get his figures so quickly. Laughing he called her the best assistant he had ever had.

Claire was just about to return the documents to their place, when a tiny corner of other envelope caught her eye. It was in the side pocket of the suitcase and rather small. Not really knowing why, she took it.  
She examined it closely: it was rather crumbled, no writing on it. She hesitated for a while but as it was not closed, she peeked in. Just a little, only to see there were some photographs within.

Quickly she put it away.

_I´m not going to snoop on him! I`m the one who always says he should trust me. How we should trust each other._

For good measure, she kicked the suitcase under the bed, took a book and settled herself nicely in the cozy-looking armchair. She began to read determinedly but found herself constantly staring at the bed.  
As if the photos and suitcase underneath were screaming her name.

_Why does Frank have some printed photos in his bag? We´ve never printed our photos, except the wedding photos and he has our wedding photo in his wallet_. 

After an hour long self-struggle she sneaked to the bed and opened his suitcase once more.


	3. The night that changed everything

“Claire, darling, are you ready?”

Claire startled when she heard the front door slam. Frank was punctual as always. He had texted that he would pick her up for dinner at half past six and here he was, right on time.

“Oh, hello, you look lovely. A new dress?”, he said scanning Claire from head to toe as he entered the living room. He appeared to be in a very good mood.

She stood in front of the huge window. Natural light of early evening shone through thin curtains and highlighted different shades of her curly brown hair.   
Her ocean-green dress was floor-length and the sheer fabric flattered her slim–but still curvy–figure. “Yes. I bought it in case I needed something special in this trip. You like it?”

“Yes, the color really suits you”, he said and came closer trying to kiss her.

She quickly turned her head, so his kiss landed on her cheek. “Shall we go then? I just go and get my purse.”

Claire went back to the bedroom and leaned her back against the wall. She wanted to scream. Scratch his face. Do something. Anything.

_Breathe, Beauchamp, just breathe. You´ll get through this._

* * *

Frank had made a reservation at a romantic riverbank restaurant near the centre of Inverness. Glass walls enabled them to watch nearby Inverness castle as well as people passing by. He seemed very pleased with himself for choosing the place.   
Even more so when Claire liked the modern European-style menu.

“I´m ravenous. I hope you don´t mind if I take three courses? They all sound so delicious”, she said and started to choose the appetizer.

To her own surprise she was actually feeling hungry. Well, she had only eaten the apple that morning, if the wine was not counted. When the waiter came, she ordered a crab & watermelon salad and a scotch fillet of beef.

“Then…a bottle of that vintage rosé champagne as well. We´re…celebrating a little.”

Frank gave her a look but did not say anything until the waiter was gone. “Ha, celebrating indeed. That bottle costs almost 100 pounds! What were you thinking?” he hissed.

“Oh. I just wanted to make this night one to remember.” She had not planned on teasing Frank like this but the little devil on her shoulder enjoyed it anyhow.

It took almost 15 minutes for Frank to get over the price of that champagne. He sulked and they sat in silence. Then he gradually started to tell about his day and - as usual - got carried away when talking about his research.   
He had found some new information of Jonathan Randall, his ancestor, the garrison commander in the 18th-century Scotland. A true war hero, as Frank praised him.  

Claire was mainly listening, trying to savor her meal and that exclusive sparkling wine. She was watching Frank, who now talked with enthusiasm, and thought that this probably would be their last dinner together.   
People seldom know when they are doing things for the last time. Or seeing each other for the last time. She now knew and it made the moment somewhat bizarre.

She observed his face and mouth as he was talking and wondered how his sharp features were so familiar yet so strange at the same time.

There was something in his face she could not recognize. Or perhaps she only just now saw him properly. 

Superficially, she seemed calm. Only a small tremble of her hands revealed there was a storm raging inside her. Thunderous voices screaming in her head.

After finishing the main course, Claire could not hold it back it any longer.

She took a deep breath for encouragement, opened her purse, pulled out three photos and put them on the table, one by one. 

Frank´s talk was cut off mid-sentence. He went deathly pale, just stared at the photos and all of sudden lost all his ability to speak.

“I know her, don´t I?”, she asked, very quietly.

Nothing.

“Don´t I?”

“Claire”, he whispered.

“Just answer me, goddamn it. It took me almost an hour to figure out where I´d seen her. But she is one of your students, isn`t she?”

“Yes”, he managed to say. “But Claire–”

“No! No more buts this time. How long has it been going on?”

“But Claire, it does not… I don´t…”

“How. Long.”

“Does it matter?” She could barely hear his voice.  
  
“Yes. It bloody well does.”  
  
“Almost a year”, he breathed.

“So, you´ve shagged your student all these months you´ve been calling me a slut. How… ironic…”

Neither of them spoke for a while. Claire glanced outside. The city looked exactly the same as ten minutes ago, people were walking by and life went on. Somewhere.   
Not at this table though. Here time was standing still. Until she spoke again.

“Frank, I don´t want to be married to you anymore.”

It was the sentence Claire had been practising all afternoon. Tasting different words in her mouth. _I want a divorce. I want to end this marriage. This marriage is over, you bloody cheating bastard_. Bitter they were, all of them.

Or actually, she had just cried at first. For hours, cocooned in that king-size bed, blankets pulled over her head.

Photos of Frank and that woman having sex, rolling around naked in some hotel bed, were burned into her retina and she could not get rid of them even if she closed her eyes and banged her head on the pillows.   
They made her feel so dirty and sick, she eventually had to go and throw up until no more than yellow stomach acids came out.

Then - slowly - she had begun to put the pieces together. Long before Frank was about come back everything was suddenly clear in her mind.

She could not tell why she started to put on makeup, do her hair or why she chose that new dress. Intuition and instincts had guided her thus far. And now those acrid words had been said.

“Claire. Please. We should go home and discuss this. This is hardly the place…”

“I don´t believe I´m coming back home with you”, she said, slowly.

He still could not meet her eyes. Just rubbed his hands together. Cracked his knuckles. “Please. We can.. I can fix this. I promise. It was a bloody stupid mistake. Meant nothing to me. Nothing compared to…I don´t want to…lose you..”

“You already have”, she said removing her wedding ring and placing it on top of the photos. 

With that said she left.

Frank stormed after her and caught her in the hall. He grabbed painfully at her upper arm.  “Where do you think you are going? You are not going to leave me like this!”

He tried to keep his voice down but his sizzling whisper was furious, reminding a venomous snake. His dark side again.

“Just watch me”, she snapped and wrenched herself free. 

Pulling away so hard she accidentally hit her forehead on the doorframe. With a bleeding scrape on her head she rushed out.

Once out of the restaurant, Claire ran hell-for-leather till she could taste blood in her mouth. She hardly could see anything through her tears and almost stumbled on her long dress.   
It was Saturday night and high tourist season, so happy crowds were swirling back and forth the streets. She had not really thought about it this far.   
Where should she go now? Reverend Wakefield was not an option. Perhaps Mrs. Graham? No, Frank would probably come and search for her there as well.   
She had a credit card with her, so a hotel would be best; if there only were vacant rooms.

She was still checking her purse when a group of drunken men suddenly blocked her passage. They were laughing, joking and clearly having the time of their lives.   
She tried to give way but was just ripped in the middle of that noisy crowd.

“Hey, ye are a bonnie lass. Whit´s yer name? This lad here is getting marrit. Ye wanna give him a kiss for guid luck?”, one drunk man slurred into her ear.  

_Oh Lord. I can´t take this right now…_

“Please, guys. No. Not tonight”, she tried to reject them.

Then she heard someone calling her name.

“Mrs. Randall. Claire!”

A strong hand reached out, grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the crowd.


	4. As there was no room in the inn

“Hello… Claire… It looked like ye wouldna mind some help.”

Claire found herself looking directly at the familiar pair of blue eyes she only just saw a day before. “Oh, Mr. Fraser, hi.”

“Dinna mind the lads, we are just having a wee party, a stag night for my cousin Rupert. He´s getting marrit next week, ye ken”, he smiled widely.

No doubt he had been celebrating as well, but seemed rather sober compared to other men who were staggering, singing some incoherent Scottish songs and trying to find more female victims to kiss the groom-to-be.

“Oh, bloody good luck to him then”, she blurted with a trace of bitterness she could hear herself.

He was still smiling and perhaps about to say something witty when he noticed her red puffy eyes and smeared mascara. His expression turned serious. “Lass, are ye alright? Is something amiss?”

“Yes. No. I don´t know. I just had…”

“… a fight wi´ yer man?”

“Yes. Or more like…I think I just… left him. For good”, she said as if she was only now about to realise what had happened.

She had to view her left hand and the empty fourth finger to understand her own words. The golden wedding ring she once had loved so much was no longer there.

_It meant that I belong to someone. From now on it is just me, nobody else_.

He did not say anything. Just looked at her and then, with a pad of his thumb, wiped away a tear that slipped out the side of her eye.

Seeing empathy in his eyes overwhelmed her. Having a scene in the middle of the busy street was the last thing she wanted, but his compassionate look was simply too much.   
She could not control herself but burst into tears, her whole body shaking.

He did not get uncomfortable, as many men tend to with crying women, but pulled her further away from others and carefully into his strong arms. Gently, he stroked her hair whispering some soothing words she could hardly hear nor understand. It did not matter really. Perhaps it was even better that way.

Claire had no idea how long she´d been weeping in his arms. It could have been five minutes as well fifteen. But gradually her sobbing eased and she pulled away from him.

“I´m so… sorry. I shouldn´t have…This is truly embarrassing…” She tried to wipe her face with her hands but managed only to spread out her mascara even more.

“Ach, dinna fash. Here, take this”, he quickly replied, gave her a paper tissue and then lifted her chin to study her face. “Do ye wish that I should kill him?”

Claire was slightly shocked by his question, not really understanding where it had come from “What? Kill why?”, she breathed.

He said nothing, just gave her a sad smile, his eyes dead serious. Tenderly he touched the scratch on her forehead.

“Oh. That. No, no. It was an accident. Frank didn´t do it. At least… he did not mean to.”

He waited for a few seconds, carefully studying her expressions as he could read the truth in her face. Only after that he decided to believe her words.   
“Ah, alright. ´Tis easier no to kill him, of course. I could end up living as an outlaw. That would be rough in Highlands, might have to steal cattle or eat grass to survive.   
Easier still in the farm, even wi´ a bunch of dang-fool dogs and stubborn rams”, he grinned.

It was her turn to stare at him. What was this babbling about killing and stealing cattle? Was he trying to be funny? In a moment like this? She did not know should she be annoyed with him or what.

Then, all of the sudden, she started to laugh. It was half-laugh - half-sob, almost hysterical giggling and in the back of her mind she thought that he must find her completely crazy.   
“Oh God.. I don´t…all is so… unbelievable… absurd…”, she hiccuped not being able to form complete sentences.

He did not seem to mind her outburst. At least he stayed still and composed. “Here, take a wee nip. I´m gonna have a word wi´ Ian”, he said after a while and digged an old hip flask out of his pocket. “A wee dram of whiskey will now do ye good.”

Ha, it takes more than a wee nip to calm me down, if you are afraid of hysterical women, lad she thought, sarcastically, and took a long draught.

It burned her throat on the way down but warmed nicely her belly. She closed her eyes and sighed. Took another sip and sighed once more.

_What if I don’t open my eyes ever again. Not until everything is suddenly alright. Just pretend this is not my life, that none of this ever happened._

She startled when she heard his deep voice again near her ear. “I told Ian I´ll meet the lads later in the pub. I´d like to keep ye company for a while, if that´s alright wi´ ye?”

“Mr. Fraser, you really are too kind, but I don´t want to ruin your evening. I´m not much company tonight, I´m afraid. But I´ll be alright and I´m sorry about–”

“I´m Jamie”, he said, not listening to her polite protest.

Hearing his first name cut off her talk and wiped everything else from her mind, just like that. The feel of that word echoed inside her.

For the first time that evening she really looked at him and suddenly remembered all the thoughts she had had when they visited his farm the day before. _God, those eyes are really very blue_ …

“Oh. Jamie. Hi. I´m Claire”, she could not think coherently and stupidly stuck out her hand to greet him.

“Aye, I ken.” His smile grew wider as he took her hand in his. “Now, tell me, what we´re going to do? Have ye got any place to stay?”

* * *

 

For the next couple of hours, they talked, walked around Inverness, and tried to find a hotel for Claire.

At first, Claire was very aware of his presence, his tall figure beside her. It made her stomach twirl - she jumped out of her skin and felt the urge to apologize every time her hand accidentally touched him.

After visiting the first hotel and getting ´no´ for an answer, though, they both started to feel more relaxed with each other. Despite the circumstances, he actually made her laugh couple of times with his fun stories of his friends and his life at the farm.   
He was a good storyteller, as most Scots are. He did not ask about Frank, their relationship or that fight and she was relieved. The hurt was too raw and tender and she did not want to fall to pieces in front of him once again.

Jamie knew many nice hotels in the area but after they had visited or called at least fifteen, it started to feel hopeless - they were all fully booked. Even the bed & breakfasts were full.

To cheer them up, he went to buy more whiskey and filled his hip flask. They ended up sitting on a bench near riverbank, the tiny bottle between them.

“Perhaps I should call Mrs. Graham after all. I can´t keep you here all night”, Claire sighed and took her phone. She realised that Frank had called and texted to her muted mobile at least a dozen times. Some of his messages were pleading, others openly hostile and angry. Apparently, Frank had already visited Mrs. Graham because there was one concerned message from her as well where she begged Claire to call Frank as soon as possible. “For fuck’s sake. What should I do now?”

“Weel, perhaps ye could text him and say ye are alive so he wouldna call the police or do anything stupid, ye ken”, Jamie suggested very carefully as if he knew that talking about Frank and their relationship was walking in a mine field.

“Yes! I do that. I’ll text the bastard and tell him to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Claire. I dinna want to… insult ye…please dinna get me wrong…”, he then continued stammering with his words.

“Yeah?”, she put away her phone to look at him. “Just come straight out with it.”

“Well then. I´ve been thinking this for some time now.. I know that we dinna ken each other so well but as there are no free rooms, I thought… Well, I thought if ye wanna come to Lallybroch wi´ me and stay there?   
It´s a big house, ye ken. Ye dinna even have to see me if ye dinna want to.”

“Stay at your house not seeing you? …It sounds rather… weird…Why do you think I´d like that?” She did not get his meaning and wrinkled her forehead.

“Nay, of course ye can see me if ye wanna. I just said it… so ye wouldna think…that I´m trying, ye ken…to get you there because, hmm…”

“Oh… I see…So wouldn´t try to sneak into my bed while I sleep? Is that what you´re trying to say?”

“Claire! I wouldna ever…”, he sounded a little shocked and rolled his eyes. He suddenly looked very young, like an embarrassed teenager, blushing and rubbing his back.

Claire could not help giggling at the sight. “Well, that is what you meant, isn´t it?”, she said still smiling. Then she became more serious and lightly touched his arm.   
“Jamie. Thank you. It´s true we don´t know each other, but after this evening and everything you´ve done for me, I do trust you. I´ll come, but for just one night, okay?”


	5. Jamie lad, ye are in bad trouble...

_Oh Jamie lad, ye are in bad trouble.._.

James Fraser was in his bedroom in Lallybroch watching out from the window seat. Moonlight spilled a hazed glow across the yard. Dogs were settled down in downstairs, whole house was now silent but he just could not quiet his racing mind. Questions, thoughts and emotions were bouncing around in his head.

Jamie could not believe that Claire was now sleeping in his parent´s old bedroom. It was almost too good to be true. Or was it? He was not quite sure.

One part of him was utterly happy and excited. That curly-haired fairy he had seen the day before visiting his farm, staring at the mountains with a wistful look on her face, was now here, under his roof. He had known from the first glance that there was something special in that woman. Something special between them.

He had not believed his luck when they bumped into each other in Inverness. He had been so delighted he had just grinned like a fool and did not even notice at first that Claire was upset.

The other part of him was now terrified.

Claire was still very much married and he did not really know the lass. It could be that she and that bloody husband of hers just had a fight, that she might call him tomorrow and make up with him.

Oh God. If he had to see that Englishman again coming here to get his wife… The mere thought made him feel sick. No, angry. Very angry. He could not help it. That douchebag. Jamie had hated his guts as soon as he realised he was married to her. And after spending one evening with Claire, he disliked the lucky bastard even more.

He knew that he should not hope their marriage was truly over because Claire was obviously heartbroken. He had seen the emptiness and grief in her beautiful whiskey-coloured eyes when she told him about it. Felt her shaking with sorrow when he held her in his arms.

And besides, the  catholic boy in him thought that marriage itself was something holy, a sacrament, in which no outsider should interfere. He could not dream of  taking another man´s wife. Sweet Jesus, that would make his father to turn over in his grave.

_And what did you do but lust for her when she was sleeping against your chest on the way here… Want to pull her even closer, protect her, breathe in her scent, kiss her…_

* * *

Murtagh, his godfather, had given them a lift to Lallybroch. They had squashed in the backseat of his old Vauxhall, which was so small he had some difficulties fitting in his legs. He had not known where to put his hands either - was it appropriate to put his arm around Claire or not. But he did not have to think about it for long because Claire was exhausted and let her head to rest on his shoulder. After that it was the most natural thing for him to let her rest in the crook of his arm.

Murtagh had been frowning his thick eyebrows at him in the rearview mirror, not looking pleased at all.

When he had called Murtagh and asked him a lift home, he only had said that a woman who needed help would be coming with him. It was Claire herself who told Murtagh and Ian - who also came with them to get back his own home - that she had been in a holiday with her husband near Inverness, now having no place to stay.

After that no words were needed, Jamie knew perfectly well what Murtagh was thinking: _Dinna mess around wi´ a marrit woman, laddie!_

Murtagh was more than right, of course, and Jamie was not going to. He was not _able_ to, even if the immoral,lusting bawheed in him had wanted that. He was sure that thinking about a new relationship – or any man, for that matter– was the last thing Claire wanted right now. So, waiting was the only option for him. He had to just wait and see how things will turn out. He sighed out of frustration; God only knew he was not a patient man.

Jamie walked around his room. Feeling restless. Slightly aroused. Angry. Happy. Frightened. He had never felt this way about a lass.

_Maybe ´tis because Claire isna a lass, but a woman._

That thought struck him like a lightning bolt.

And Holy Mary and Joseph, what kind of a woman she is.

He could not help thinking how that green dress had conformed to her plump breasts and showed off the shape of her sweet, round arse when they walked together in Inverness. She looked like some ancient water goddess or a cunning siren. He couldn´t even imagine how beautiful she must look like without that dress…

He felt his cock beginning to stir. Again. It was not the first time this evening. He had had some problems with his rapid imagination and traitorous cock in the car as well.

He did not want to touch himself though. Not right now when Claire was in the other room feeling so shattered. It would just make him feel even more like a horny dickheed.

Instead, he sat on the floor and started to do sit-ups, furiously.

_´Tis madness, he huffed, ´tis two o´clock in the morning and here I am doing wee exercises, trying not to jerk myself off._

After one hundred he switched to do his biceps. Sometimes physical strain helped but this time it did not bring him any relief.

_Bollocks. Now I´m only sweaty and gantin…_

He decided to sneak downstairs to get his hip flask. Perhaps a wee dram would put him into sleep. He heard that Murtagh was snoring heavily in the guest room. The man had insisted on staying overnight, apparently to keep an eye on his godson and watch that no immoralities would occur between him and that married English lass. Jamie was amused by the thought. And now the man was snoring like a mule - fornication on the living room floor would not wake up that old dobber.

He was still thinking about Murtagh and his da when he walked back upstairs. After his father had died three years ago, Murtagh had started to take his godfather responsibilities a wee bit too seriously. But he did not mind. On the contrary, it was deeply touching. Murtagh had always been like a second father to him and he knew he could trust his life into his hands. As well as Jenny´s and…

“Holy, sweet, merciful fuck!”

A shock nearly made him spit out his whiskey.

There was a moving white shape in the dark corridor.

He was slightly drunk, tired and so deep in thought that it took him at least five seconds to realise that the shape was not some haunted spirit but Claire, standing in the moonlight in his old white t-shirt, looking at  at some old paintings. She startled as well hearing his half-choked utterance.

“Jamie! You scared the hell out of me”, she gasped and grabbed her heaving chest.

“Sorry…I thought ye were a…”

“Thought what? That I was a ghost? Don´t say that you actually believe in them?”, she smiled.

“Weel, only if I see one wi´ my verra eyes next to my bedroom door…”

“Trouble sleeping?”, he continued.

“Some. So much has happened, you know… I was just coming back from the bathroom and saw these paintings…”

“Ye canna see them properly. Shall I switch on the lights?”

“No! No, please don´t. No need to. This moonlight is… just perfect.”

She was the perfect one, he thought. Absolutely beautiful. Her brown curls were a mess from sleeping and that old shirt exposed her endless bare legs. God, he was even able to see the dark shadow of her nipples through the worn-out fabric. This was not helping him at all.

They just looked each other and intensity was quite naked in his eyes. Then he gulped and forced himself to look away from her.

“I better go… and try to get some sleep. Good night, Jamie”, she breathed and slithered back to her room.

“Good night.”  
His voice was a hoarse whisper. He just stood still for a while, looking at her door, not being able to take a single step to opposite direction.

He was sure that he had never wanted anything as much as he now wanted this woman.


	6. I was wondering could I stay here a few more days?

**Next morning** , Claire woke up early hearing a door slam, an engine starting, and dogs barking in the distance. At first she could not recognize the room - dark blue palm tapestries and the huge vintage four-poster bed. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot from crying. The pounding headache and dry mouth reminded her of whiskey she had drunk last night. Yes, whiskey, the silver hip flask…Jamie… Things came back to her as she woke up properly. She was at Lallybroch and… divorced. **  
**

Or actually, she was going to get a divorce. The thought made her bolt up in her bed. She was instantly wide awake, adrenaline flushing into her system, and grabbing her purse for her mobile.

There was no doubt in her mind that she was leaving Frank. No talk, no pleading, no threat - nothing could change that. Perhaps she would be able to forgive him in time, but that did not change the fact that trust, love and respect were permanently damaged…vanished…gone… and that left her feeling alarmingly empty.

If a vase shatters on the floor into a thousand pieces, it is broken. Sometimes it just cannot be mended. That can happen in relationships. They. just. break.

She remembered how Geillis, her best friend, had tried to warn her about Frank years ago, while they were still dating, saying that there was something abusive in his personality and it might just get worse if he would not admit it and seek help. Geillis had not been discreet about her opinions,  and back then, her comments had made Claire furious. Claire had wanted to believe that everything would be fine as soon as she and Frank started their proper life together. Now, she had to admit that Geillis’  words had been truer than the truth.

But what should she do now? Claire had no idea how the divorce process worked but all her senses were so alert she wanted to do something, right away. Get it started.

_I`d better call Ned. He has always been an early bird…_

She picked up her phone and found the number of the old lawyer who had been a friend of her uncle as long as she could remember.

* * *

**After couple of hours** , she heard a silent knock on the door. Having been so busy on the phone, she was still in bed wearing Jamie´s old t-shirt she had borrowed from him for the night. Quickly, she sneaked under the blankets and tried (and failed) to tame her wild crazy hair with her fingers.

“Come in…?”

Jamie carefully peeked into the bedroom. As he noticed that she was decently under the covers and wide awake, he opened the door. 

“Good mornin…Did you get some sleep?”

“Yes, I did. Eventually. Please, come in”, she smiled.

“Didna want to wake ye up too early. But I thought ye might want some coffee, now… or do ye like tea better?”

He looked a little uncertain of himself, carrying a small tray containing two large cups of coffee, milk and sugar.

“Oh no, coffee is fine. Thank you, so sweet of you. It´s just what I needed”, she assured him.

Jamie took another cup for himself and sat in the old leather armchair near the window.

“I´ve been making calls all morning. That´s why I`m still in bed”, she told him sipping her precious black nectar.

“Oh, aye?”

Jamie felt his stomach clench. He kept his eyes focused strictly on his coffee, not daring to ask her anything. This was the moment of truth. He knew he had to concentrate on concealing his feelings if she were now about to tell him that she had called the Englishman and made up with him.

“Yes. I called my lawyer. Or he is more like an old family friend… but anyway, he promised to get the divorce process started… do all paper work for me. It should be quite easy, as Frank and I, we don´t have kids or common property.”

“Oh… ye are sure about it then?”, he sighed and exhaled slowly not even noticing he had been holding his breath.

“Dead bloody certain. There are things…” she started, but decided to leave it there. She was not ready to tell him why she was so determined - all the ugly reasons behind the divorce. “Uh… yes. Then I called my friend and asked if I could stay with her when I go back to Oxford. Until I find a place for myself. I just cannot go back to our old home, you know… if Frank stays there…and…hmmm …Jamie?”

“Aye?”

He was still trying to process her previous words, realising that the divorce did not mean she would stay in Scotland. Of course not. She had a full life - work, friends and everything in Oxford. So far he had been so focused on the greatest obstacle - her marriage to Frank - that he had not even thought about other considerations.

“Well… I don´t know if I should ask you this at all…”, she was biting her lower lip and looking at him under her lashes.

“Claire. Ye are sleeping in my parent´s bed and wearing my shirt”, he grinned. ”Ye can ask me anything, surely ye ken that.”

“Well. The only problem is that Geillis, my friend, is out of town. She will be back next Thursday. That´s in four days. And I was… wondering…

“Yes?”

“Well…I was wondering if I could stay here a few more days? But only if… uh…See, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you…”, she started babbling and her face turned a little pinker.“I could even pay you something for having me…Or I could help you with your work…clean the house… do whatever you want me to do.”

Jamie was not able to say anything.

He was so astonished that it was hard for him not to laugh out loud. In the blink of an eye he had been swung from one emotional extreme to another. A minute ago he was a bundle of nerves thinking that she might go back to her husband and now she was asking if she could stay here - with him…A Dhia! There must be some higher powers involved in this. He would have her at least four more days!

He was now leaning back in the chair, staring at her. He opened his mouth once but not a word came out.

Jamie could not tell her what he was thinking because right at that moment he just knew, with certainty, that he was falling in love with her.

He was aware that he could end up getting hurt, but he just had to take that risk. Or, actually, he did not have much choice. Telling himself not to love her would have been as useless as telling his heart to stop beating.

He suddenly remembered how his da had always told him that he would just know who was the right lass for him. He hadn´t really believed him, but now - oh God, was it really this easy? Recognizing the right one? He made a silent promise that he would do everything in his power to win her heart - to get her - to make her his own.

Jamie was silent couple of minutes but for Claire it felt like hours. He was not aware that his gaze was becoming a bit intense and that made Claire even more nervous.

“I´m sorry,” she said, looking mortified, “I should not have asked…It´s probably not a good idea. I`ll call Mrs–”

“No, ´tis a perfect idea”, he interrupted her quickly, a little breathless, realising how weird he must have looked.  “It would make a nice change. Talking wi´ ye, not only to my dogs. But be careful what ye promise, lass, when you talk about helping me or cleaning the house. In Highlands we tend to take promises verra seriously”, he grinned and blinked both eyes solemnly.

It looked quite foolish yet very endearing at the same time. Claire figured that it was supposed to be a wink and his boyish eagerness lightened her mood. Now they both were feeling relieved, smiling shyly to each other and exchanging coy glances.

* * *

**They agreed** to see each other again around lunch time and drive to Inverness once more to get Claire´s bags from Mrs. Graham, as she had asked the old lady to collect her things from the cottage. That left Jamie a couple of hours to finish his tasks outdoors and Claire had time to wander around. She quickly dressed and started to look up for the kitchen to get more coffee.

She walked through the second floor corridor, now seeing properly the old paintings and portraits there. It was somewhat hard for her to believe that people were still living in places like this. The whole house seemed to be so full of stories. She had no idea who those serious looking men and women were - except that they were Frasers, of course, Jamie´s ancestors. She could even see some family resemblance - that of wild red curls - across generations.

Finally, she found her way to the kitchen. She filled her cup and continued strolling through the first floor rooms. The whole interior was rustic, a little worn-out but cosy. There were charming fireplaces in every room and she could imagine how comfy it must be to sit in front of a crackling fire when a raw winter wind was blowing outside.

The library looked most like Jamie. The computer, Xbox and piles of games told right away that it was a man cave. Apparently, this fierce highlander sometimes had extra time for playing, she mused to herself and walked towards two huge comfortable couches. The wall behind them was full of family photos and some pieces of modern art. She moved from one photo to another, carefully wiping away the dust from the frames.

She was filled with the strangest mixture of emotions - that of sadness and giddiness - and it made her feel very vulnerable. All those family photos reminded her in a sad way of what she had just lost, or actually what she had never really had - a loving family of her own. On the other hand, if she was completely, utterly honest with herself, she - _really_ \- liked the idea of staying here four whole days. With him. With Jamie.

She had not been completely honest when she had first thought about that alternative, but had reasoned it with all kinds of rational arguments. Staying here would be cheaper than in the hotel, naturally. Frank would never come here to search for her. She would not have to be completely alone thinking about her miserable, lonely life. All of those reasons were true, of course, but still she had been avoiding the obvious one like a plague. The very reason had red curly hair, deep blue eyes and a presence that made her body thrum.

Now, when she finally dared to face it, she was certain that she was not the only one feeling that peculiar connection between them. She had noticed how Jamie had been looking at her, last night in the corridor and again this morning in her bedroom. She had seen the burning in his eyes, intensity that had been almost frightening.

So, she just had to stay and study what this all was, even though the timing was terrible and her own life was a total mess.

What surprised her a little was that it did not seem to have anything to do with Frank. Last night, when she had decided to come here with Jamie, it had been motivated in part by a vindictive wish to have Frank see her leaving with the handsome highlander. But now, when she was studying her thoughts and feelings more closely, she realised that she did not want to have revenge on Frank, nor would that ever be the reason she chose to be with another man. She just wanted to get her divorce as quickly and smoothly as possible and close that chapter of her life.

_Maybe our love was dead long before yesterday… Maybe it died that night when I found myself in the ditch…_

The day was exceptionally warm and sunny so she decided to leave the house, dusty photographs and tricky thoughts and head outdoors.

From there Jamie eventually found her - she was sitting beside the old empty greenhouse, her face turned towards the sun and her eyes closed. He waited for a few seconds just to enjoy the sight, noticing that she did not look miserable at all but relaxed and calm.  

“So, ye´ve found my mum´s old veggie garden…”

He wasn´t sure if she had heard him because she just smiled and didn´t open her eyes. But then she squinted up at him through the sunlight.

“I´ve always dreamt of having one… for growing some herbs… rosemary, basil, mint and then salad and lettuce of course…Perhaps tomatoes, zucchini and pumpkins as well. But you can´t do that in the city, can you?…”

Her words made his heart flutter.

_But here you could, mo nighean donn. Here you could._


	7. "Don´t call me your wife anymore!"

**Jamie was smiling** to himself. He thought that this must have been the most perfect day of his entire life - so far, that is. There were plenty of things he would like to do with Claire they had not done yet  - like kiss her and have her naked in his bed, to mention only a few - but he was ready to wait. Right now his heart was full and content. **  
**

He was sitting in his old pickup truck, surfing radio channels and waiting for Claire, who had gone to Mrs. Graham´s to get her bags. He was recalling their lunch in a cosy little restaurant on their way here. He´d been stupidly proud when the waitress had addressed them as a couple. He wished that every single person in his planet would think she belonged to him. There were so many tiny things he loved about her. Like the way she tasted the food before swallowing it, feeling it in her mouth and smacking a little, analyzing the flavour, herbs and spices used. Or the very elegant way she picked up the wineglass and lifted it to her lips.

_Her lips. They looked so soft, moist and deliciously rose. - Oh God! Please, don´t tell me I have just stared at her mouth this whole time!_

He still tried to figure out why Claire seemed so different from all the other lasses he had known. She was witty, alright, with a sharp tongue and a mischievous sense of humour. He felt he could talk to her freely about anything - if his feelings for her were not counted. And her laughter made him feel like the happiest man in the world. She wrinkled her nose when she giggled and he just wanted to make her that happy again and again.

Jamie was sure both his parents would have loved her. Jenny, his sister, being so overly protective of him, would probably be suspicious at first but eventually would grow to love her as well. How could she not? Claire was his English lass after all. His Sassenach - that is how he now called her in his mind.

* * *

**Jamie sighed, stretched his arms** , closed his eyes for a moment - and almost missed the appearance of an old lady passing by. She was coming from the house Claire just went into, looking a wee bit stressed and nervous. He turned to look at her more closely but she had already disappeared around the corner.

He leaned back into the seat but could not regain his previous happy mood. Claire had told him that Mrs. Graham was a widow, living by herself. Who was that woman he had just seen? If she was Mrs. Graham, why Claire did not come out? How long she had been in that house? He was looking at his watch and each passing minute made him more worried. Finally, his intuition told him to get out of the car and go to the house.

_If everything is alright I can always say I came to carry her bags._

Being just a few meters away from the front door, he suddenly heard a loud crack and a scream. His heart almost stopped beating. He rushed to the door and banged it a couple of times. No answer, nobody came.

Then he heard another scream. A man´s voice, shouting. Cursing. Another loud crack.

He banged the door again, this time even harder. A sudden, intense fear brought a hard, metallic taste into his mouth - a mixture of blood and adrenaline. Hearing his own heart racing, he tried to peer in the small window but could not see anything.

Sweet blood of Jesus… Claire might be in serious danger. She did have that wound on her head last night after all, even though she had told him it had been an accident. What if Randall was there hurting her or doing something even worse…

After that thought Jamie acted instinctively, not wanting to waste another second. He backed off a few steps to build up some speed and threw his whole weight against the old door. Once - it stayed closed. The second barrage broke the lock and he collapsed into the gloomy hall seeing a suitcase and another smaller bag on the floor in front of him.

“Claire!”, he shouted, almost panicking, scrambling to his feet.

“Help! I´m here…”

He ran towards her voice storming in the living room. A small three-legged table was crashed to the ground, a big vase was broken and there were splinters of china and glass everywhere. That much he was able to see before his eyes locked on Randall who was standing in front of the fireplace, grasping Claire´s shoulders with both his hands. Her beautiful green dress was torn, exposing her chest and her wild curls were a mess covering her face.

“You?! What the hell are you doing here?” It was Randall. His face was still twisted with anger but the expression was slowly changing into utter disbelief.

“I came to help Claire carry her bags”, Jamie answered.

He had stopped in the middle of the room, his voice was ice cold and his tensed body radiated threat.

Jamie had never experienced such rage before. It boiled inside him, bright and so hot he could almost feel it in every breath in his nostrils. It was as if his whole body was programmed to commit one duty only: to kill that man, tear him into pieces with his bare hands. It was almost an uncontrollable instinct: a primal need to shed his blood.

“My wife and I are having a conversation. She isn´t going anywhere. You are not needed here, so leave”, Randall snapped, but there was an uncertain undertone in his voice. Clearly Jamie´s appearance had taken him unawares.     

“Why don´t ye let Claire to decide that?”, Jamie said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “I suggest ye take yer hands off her. Now.”

Randall gave him a long look as if he was estimating the strength of his adversary. Then, in a very theatrical gesture, he released her. He sighed, deeply, took a few steps away from Claire and even tried to twist his lips into a sardonic smile.

“Mr. Fraser. I know this may seem rather dramatic. We did have a little argument, that´s true, but I assure you, everything is fine. Just a normal disagreement between husband and wife. Nothing for you to worry about”, he tried to adopt more formal, convincing tone.

He was clearly going for a man-to-man talk, hoping that the authority of an older, married man would work on a younger, inexperienced boy, he seemed to think Jamie was.

Once released, Claire wiped her hair off her face, stared at Randall expressing extreme disgust and almost spitted her next words:

“A normal argument, my ass! And don´t call me your wife anymore, you bloody violent excuse for a man!”

“As you can see, she is rather upset, so would you leave us? Please”, Randall continued to Jamie. His voice was still calm but his narrowing eyes were telling it was hard for him to ignore Claire´s previous words without losing his temper.

“Oh, stop this theatre, will you!”, Claire yelled. “You lied to Mrs. Graham so you could set a trap for me. I didn´t come here to talk with you and Jamie knows that as well.”  

They were all silent for a few seconds. Jamie was still eyeing Randall like a hunter watching his prey. He had to squeeze his fingers into his fists and let his nails dig into his flesh. One wrong move from Randall and he wouldn´t be able to control himself.

“Jamie?…How do you….You seem to know him rather well…”, Randall then snapped in a mocking tone. “Why is he here, exactly? Are you leaving me for this uneducated Scottish tyke? Is that it? I should have known of the way you acted in his farm, offering yourself to him…”

“He is more of a man than you´ll ever be!”, Claire retorted. “But no, I´m not leaving you for him or for anyone else, for that matter. I´m not the one who´s been sleeping around. I am leaving you because of you! You bloody–”

“I believe the lady has now expressed her opinion”, Jamie interrupted.

He had to get Claire out of there before he would do something he might regret later. He was still using all his willpower not to punch in Randall´s smug face.

Slowly, he held out his hand for Claire to take. She turned to look at him, their eyes locked and he nodded to her for reassurance. As if in a slow-motion, she took his hand, he pulled her to him and then behind his back. She turned to look at Frank, one more time, but did not see his face properly. He had gone to the window and stood there, hands behind his back, watching out.

“Now, we´ll take Claire´s bags and leave. I assume ye´ll clean up this mess, Randall, before Mrs. Graham comes back”, Jamie said. His voice was a little unsteady with restrained rage and he carefully pushed Claire out of the living room.

Randall did not answer. When they reached the main entrance, they heard loud crack as he smashed one more vase to the ground.

Once out of the house, Jamie turned to her and gave her his jacket to cover her torn dress.

“Sassenach, are ye alright? Did he hurt ye?”

“No, not really. He didn´t have time, thanks to you. But take me away from here. Please.”

* * *

**They did not talk** until he stopped his car into the yard of a small private clinic a few miles away from Mrs Graham´s. Claire lifted her eyebrows in a silent question.

“A friend of mine, Angus, works here as a doctor. I think ye should go and see him, let him check yer bruises. Ye might need a document of those later”, he said, very gently. “I´ll go in first and tell him what to expect. Ye dinna have to worry.”

Her visit to the clinic did not take long. The doctor was a small, empathetic, yet rather strange man, who was muttering curses under his breath all that time she was in the surgery. Claire anticipated that his swearing was aimed at the man who had caused her bruises, not at her, but nevertheless, she could not help feeling the shame. She never would had thought of being one of those women who go to the doctor´s appointment because of domestic violence. 

Irrational shame… red hot anger…Her emotions were so overwhelming it was hard for her to talk. She was relieved when a few photographs were taken, she got the medical certificate and they were ready to leave. Then she changed her clothes - stuffing that green dress in the garbage - and they were on the road again.

In the car, Claire was deep in thought and Jamie did not really know how to break her silence. He would had wanted to just hold her, pet her hair, and caress her sad face until all that sorrow and anger were wiped away. He was frustrated and rather angry himself and that made him drive faster than usual. He wanted to add distance between them and Randall as quickly as possible.

After half an hour he suddenly turned the vehicle onto a small one-track road.

“The mountains will do us both good right now. There´s a place I`d like to show ye”, he said after the bumpy drive and stopped the car.

They were in a narrow glen and he helped her out of the car. Claire watched the mountains around them - the mountain tops, both flat and sharp, and the hillsides shining in the summer sun with all shades of green and brown. Heather was blooming adding deep purplish shade of red into the color palette. She closed her eyes breathing in everything she had just seen, letting the fresh air fill her whole body. Then she turned to look at him.

“Now you know it has been pretty ugly. I´m sorry you had to see and hear that. But thank you, for coming and saving me.”

After all restrained rage and anxiety of that afternoon, Jamie nearly lost his self-control when he heard that small voice. He rushed to her, pulled her tightly into his arms - a little bit too roughly - and breathed into her hair, desperately.

“I won´t let him hurt ye! Ever! Ye need not be scared of anyone as long as I´m wi´ ye.”


	8. Behind the waterfall

**“How old are you, exactly?** Have you lived here your whole life? Is farming what you have always wanted to do? Have you got brothers or sisters?” **  
**

“That´s a whole lot of questions, Sassenach”, Jamie laughed. “Where should I start?”

“What does that mean? ‘Sassenach’? You´ve called  me that at least four times now.”

“Ach…that.. well, Highlanders used to call Lowlanders by that name. And later it was used for English or outlanders. But I dinna mean to offend ye by it”, he answered.

“No, you don´t. I can tell that.”

* * *

**Claire and Jamie** were sitting on the hilltop after hiking and climbing for an hour. Up there, it seemed to be a whole different world. The sky was near, and Inverness, Frank, his accusations and threats belonged to some other era, to someone else´s life.

They had talked about the incident when they hiked up. Claire had told Jamie that Frank had persuaded Mrs. Graham to let him wait for her, saying that they had only had an argument and Claire was overreacting. Claire did not really blame Mrs. Graham for believing him - she knew how persistent and convincing Frank could be, and he had probably used all his charms on her. It was really hard for people to believe that a smooth-talking professor could be anything but a loving and caring husband.

When Claire had come, Frank had been repentant, at first, almost crying for her forgiveness, but when she had told him she already had filed for a divorce, he had snapped and made her stay at the house by force. Claire could not tell what he might have done if Jamie hadn´t come. A few months ago, she would have been certain that Frank would never actually harm her, but she just couldn´t be that confident anymore.

Jamie had clenched his teeth listening to her. Anger had made him stride up the hillside so fast Claire had repeatedly asked him to wait for her. Although Jamie knew that hitting Randall would only had caused him trouble, letting him go unharmed made him feel guilty for some reason. Guilty and frustrated.

Luckily hiking and the beautiful scenery had helped them both. The higher they had got, the less they had talked about Frank. Once they had reached the hilltop, Claire had been breathing heavily but her mind was unloaded from all the extra baggage. She had begun to get back her good spirits and even started to feel unusually lively and bubbly, as people often do after slightly traumatic experiences.

Now she was chatty and asked as many questions as a curious toddler.

Jamie was lying on his back on the thick tartan plaid he had taken with them and stretched his arms, smiling.

“And if I answer yer other questions, milady, that would be 24, exactly, and no, no and yes.”

“Oh, men and their short answers! I don´t even remember what I asked”, she laughed sitting beside him. “24, that much I gather. You are rather young, lad, then. But have you lived here all your life?”

“I´m a Highlander, born and bred… But nay… I was studying in Edinburgh for two years and one year in France before I returned. History, philosophy, extinct languages… all verra important for a sheep farmer…”, he smirked.

“Oh, wow! So you speak fluent French then?”

“Ah oui, ma belle dame…Qu'est-ce que je ferais sans toi…”

“Why did you come back?”

“My da died three years ago. Someone had to take over the farm. And I wanted to do that.”

Jamie was surprised how openly he was now telling her about his family and even about his feelings, his sorrows and uncertainties. He told her how he had lost his mother and older brother as a wee lad and what he had gone through during the last three years after his father had passed away. How Murtagh had supported him and helped him with all the practicalities of the farm, finances as well as raising of the animals. 

It seemed that Claire was able to show her compassion without pitying him and that made talking easier. She just gently touched his arm a couple of times for encouragement and let him talk.

_God, I haven´t even talked to Jenny like this. It feels so good to be here with her._

Their conversation had been so effortless and easy he forgot the time passing. Now he suddenly remembered that this was supposed to be only a short break.

“Sassenach. This is no the place I wanted to show ye. I only thought ye might want a wee rest after hiking up here. We should be going if we want to get there and back before dark.”

Claire did not protest even though her legs felt a little heavy. Jamie was walking on the unstable and mountainous terrain as lightly as some bloody red deer, she thought, panting behind him. She was happy and amused though. Every now and then he turned to smile at her and helped her with difficult spots and she simply could not resist his enthusiasm. He definitely was a Highlander - and she obviously was not. But she was curious. If the beautiful hilltop had not been the place he had in mind, what could it be?

* * *

She actually guessed his surprise before she was able to see anything. She could hear water running, roaring, when they got nearer, and then all of sudden it was just ahead of them. A magnificent waterfall, not the largest one she had seen, but breathtakingly beautiful anyhow. The waterfall was cascading over the cliff and into a small pond, so round it was almost like a natural pool. Branches of big oaks were bending over the pond and light was glimmering green.

“Oh Jamie! I love this place. Seeing this is definitely worth all that hiking!”, she sighed.  

“I used to come here wi´ my da. I was five when he first took me here.”

“Are you going to take me swimming then?”, she grinned.

“Ach, I would love to but this is Scotland, Sassenach, not the tropics”, he laughed.

“Water there is freezing, even for a high-spirited and braw lass like ye. But I´m glad ye are no afraid to get a wee bit wet. Take off yer shoes and come wi´ me.”

She took off her sandals and Jamie lead them down, on the other side of the fall, so near it, she could not understand what he was up to.

“Now, we have to wade a wee bit”, he said, giving her his hand and helping her into knee-high water. “You can walk behind the waterfall under the cliff. Just follow me.”

They edged sideways along the ledge backs pressed against the cliff. Jamie had been right. Water was so freezing she almost lost her footing and yelped when he pulled her quickly through that cold shower. 

“Oh bloody hell! it´s cold enough to freeze the balls”, she squirted on the other side and shaked her wet curls off her face.

“I knew ye´d like it”, he chuckled, helping her next to him into a narrow opening behind the waterfall.

Then he gulped. Her wet white t-shirt was clinging rather tightly to her body and her breasts stood out proudly like they were carved in white marble.

_Holy Mary. I hope she does not think I´ve planned that… That I purposely brought her here because–_

No, luckily Claire seemed to have other things on her mind, completely. She was watching their otherworldly surroundings with astonishment. Water was blocking the view ahead of them, but not completely. It was gloomy and air was rather cold and damp. The noise was so loud they had to stand close to each other to be able to speak.

“Jamie! This is like from a fairy tales! But not a place for fairies to live. This is wild!”, she gasped.

“As a wee lad I imagined ´tis a cave of some pirate king or a hiding place for the Jacobites and Bonny Prince Charlie. I loved to come here wi´ my da. We sat there by the pond and he told me all kind of stories. History, of course, but also of old legends; kelpies, selkies, blue men of Minch, Celtic gods…”    

“I bet all the girls you´ve brought here have been… well, rather impressed by you. You seem like a real adventurer”, she blurted and smiled to him, mischievously.

_God, Beauchamp! Where did it come from? If that´s not flirting what the bloody hell is?_

Jamie was blushing a little but did not turn away his gaze from her. On the contrary, he was now eyeing her so intently - not only her face but letting his eyes linger on her body as well - that it made her shiver. She had been the one who had changed the subject from kelpies to girls and clearly he was now willing to answer that challenge.

“Well, I dinna ken since ye are the first lass I´ve brought here.”

“Oh…I am?”

Claire could hear her own heart beating. She became acutely aware on his broad shoulders, wide chest, strong arms and muscular stomach that narrowed into slim hips. His wet shirt did not hide much. Neither did hers, she now realised.

“So, ´tis only ye Sassenach, who can tell me if this place works. Are ye, then… impressed by me?”

His words were nonchalant but there was only a hunch of smile in the corner of his mouth. His voice was hoarse.   

She swallowed but did not turn her eyes away. The air in the cave was so moist and cold she could see their now ragged breathing. She could feel heat and energy spilling through her body. There was no turning back.  

“I would say… the place works just fine…”, she whispered and hold her breath.

The water was roaring so loudly he would not have heard her, had they not been standing very close. They were almost pressed against each other, but still not touching. She had no idea how they had ended up so close. Had she moved or had he?   

“Claire…”, he breathed into her face. “I want so verra much to kiss ye. May I… do that?”

His words were almost a kiss already, flickering on her face. She did not answer but stood on her tiptoes and tenderly pressed her lips to his.

* * *

**It was the strangest of kisses** in the strangest of places. Yet very much a perfect one. Their lips met, light at first, then melting against each other. So warm, moist and inviting. She felt she could drown on the tenderness of his lips. Only their lips met, they did not touch each other otherwise.

Then he slid his tongue along her lips and she moaned. With that tiny sound tenderness was suddenly replaced by something more powerful. Passion…need…and they crashed together. He grabbed her hair and slid his tongue inside her mouth deepening their kiss while his other hand was caressing her back quickly finding its way to her arse. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his wet hair, and pressed her whole body against him. Shamelessly. Wanting.

“God, Claire… ye…are so soft… ye…taste so good… I just wanna…” he muttered into her ear, his hands continuing their exploration on her body.

His hands found her breasts, her nipples, squeezing and pinching them, hard, through her t-shirt. She moaned into his mouth, so loud no roaring water was able to cover it.

She could feel him hard, pulsing, against her belly and she wanted him so badly it ached. For a moment she was sure that they would end up making love right there - in that dark and muddy cave. She was not able to resist that. She did not want to. He was just kissing her neck… her chest… and his mouth felt so good on her…but then her teeth started to rattle. She tried to clench her chin to stop that, but couldn´t.

It took a toll on him to stop but with an effort he managed to tear his lips away from her.     

“I´m sorry… Sassenach… I got carried away a wee bit…Are ye cold?”, he smiled, breathlessly, against her mouth.

“It´s okay… only a little”, she tried to find some coherent words.

They stood there for a moment, foreheads pressed together, panting.

“And here I am, thinking that ye are trembling with lust but it seems ye are only freezing to death”, he then laughed. “Come, I´ll take ye out of here. Hmm… But only on one condition…”

“And what might that be?”, she still could not think straight.

“Ye have to let me kiss ye on the other side as well.”


	9. A small private paradise

**Stepping into the daylight** beyond the waterfall reminded Claire of Adam and Eve, walking together the first time in the Garden of Eden. Jamie pulled her through that freezing shower again and they jumped out of the water, spluttering and giggling like teenagers. Everything was somehow so innocent, right and natural. There was no past, only this moment - eternal present - and just them in that small private paradise. He wrapped her in his big tartan plaid, dried her hair - laughing - and then kissed her as if he´d been kissing her all his life.

“Oh thank God”, he sighed, holding her against his chest and grinning madly. “I was afraid ‘twas only possible in that cave.”  

“It would be rather inconvenient, don´t you think?”, she giggled. “First hike over an hour and then go through a freezing shower for a kiss.”

“Inconvenient maybe, but worth it for sure”, he murmured into her neck and pulled them both slowly to the ground.

They just laid there on the plaid for a while, smiling to each other. Early evening sun was still warming them, but Claire was shivering a little and he pulled her against him and rubbed her arms to warm her up. She nudged her cheek against his chest and inhaled his manly scent. He had taken off his wet shirt and his bare chest was already warm. She just had to touch him, feel his muscles and heart beating under her hand. Absentmindedly, she played with his coarse chest hair and then rubbed her thumb over his erect nipple. His sudden groan made her look up to his face.

“Claire”, he gasped. “Do ye ken… what ye are doing to me…”

“Why don´t you… tell me”, she breathed, pressing her lips against his chest.

Before she realised it, she was pinned to the ground by his weight and he kissed her again. He slid his tongue, slowly, over her lips before he plunged it into her mouth. His kiss was raw… hungry, as if he could not get enough of her taste. Her lips parted for his demanding tongue and her body was responding to him with similar hunger.

She just wanted to take him in, take everything in - the feeling of his hot mouth on her lips and on her cool skin, sounds of his ragged breathing, his moans, his musky smell, his weight.

Yes. Yes, her body was saying. She wanted him with every fiber of her being.

He slid his hand inside her t-shirt and only softly brushed his thumb across her nipple but she was so tuned in that the lightest of touches had her moaning into his mouth. The sound shot straight to his groin and made his hips jerk involuntarily forward. She answered by cupping his arse and rubbing her body against him.

“God. Claire. Ye´re…killing me”, he groaned.

Then, all of the sudden, he stopped and pressed his forehead against her shoulder, still breathing heavily and smiled, his eyes closed.

“I ken we shouldna…”, he murmured. “But it seems that I just lose it every time I kiss ye. When ye make that wee…needy sound, I´m gone…”

“But it isn´t a bad thing, is it?”, she chuckled, making sensual circles on his back and combing her fingers through the curls near his neck.

“Nay, maybe no…but I dinna want ye to think I´m like some crazy beast…and besides, ye are still marrit.”

“Yes, I´m married…but only on paper…” His words made her puzzled and frustrated as well. “You´ve seen it yourself how it is between Frank and me…I don´t feel I´m married to him anymore…otherwise I wouldn´t be here with you. Jamie…”

Her whole body ached for more and suddenly she realised that Frank´s kisses had never had this kind of power over her. She had thought that sex had been their bridge and yes, she had enjoyed it for the most part, but with Jamie it was something else. Totally different, like a fire inside her. Jamie made her blood burn and his kisses alone made her toes curl with pleasure. God, this man could kiss! She felt more alive than ever before. Alive, open, free and ready.

She definitely did not want him to stop, but Jamie had clearly made up his mind. He said something in Gaelic that she did not understand, but by his frustrated tone she could guess he was cursing. Kissing her again, very gently this time, and stroking her nose feather-softly with his finger, he rolled himself off her and rose slowly to his feet.

“Now, Sassenach, we must go. I have to get ye back safely before it gets dark”, he said and pulled her up her as well.

She snorted at his words and gently punched his arm, pretending to be mad, but he just laughed at the displeased expression on her face.

“Ye are a fierce wee thing, are ye no? Better no to make ye angry”, he smirked.

“You bloody well better not!”, she huffed and wrapped the plaid around her making herself ready to go.

* * *

**Soon Claire realised** it was actually good that they left. Walking back took them notably longer than coming to the waterfall since her feet felt even heavier and Jamie could not resist kissing her every time they had a short break. A Couple of times they nearly found themselves on the heathland, overwhelmed with passion, but then they forced themselves to carry on, giggling and feeling utterly intoxicated by each other.

It was almost dark when they finally got back to the car. Sun was setting down, painting the horizon with all shades of orange and pink.

She watched the sunset through the car window as they drove to Lallybroch. What a day this had been. How can life be suddenly so beautiful, she wondered, resting her hand on his strong thigh while he was driving. That horrible encounter with Frank had happened only this afternoon but she felt like it was weeks ago. Time truly was a relative concept.

The closer they got to the farm, the more silent they became, however. She did not find it awkward, being silent with him, but she could sense tension increasing between them. Perhaps he, too, was thinking what would happen when they get to Lallybroch. After all, they were going to sleep at the same house for four more nights and the attraction between them was, well, magnetic.  

She wanted to ask him why he had brought up her marriage - and why he had decided to back off - but she could not find right words. Everything had happened so fast between them that talking about feelings or their relationship just did not feel right. God, they had only just met two days ago. There was yet hardly any relationship.

And still, there definitely was something. When she touched him and he touched her, everything was like it was suppose to be, she thought. It was very simple, natural and right. She just did not have words for it.

* * *

**Her thoughts were cut off** abruptly when they drove under the arched stone gate to Lallybroch yard. Jamie swore loudly.

“Ifrinn… Someone has let the dogs out!”

Six border collies were running around their car and barking with enthusiasm to get their master back home.

“Bloody hell, I should have guessed”, he cursed. “Sassenach, I´m afraid ye´ll be meeting my lovely sister, Jenny. Ian must have told her about ye - that ye came here wi´ me last night - and she is such a nosy arse… just couldna stay away from here…”

“Oh… I hope she does not mind me staying?” She suddenly became very nervous.

“Nay…She´s alright, really”, he grinned. “Dinna worry. And remember, ´tis my home and I invited ye to stay…”

They barely got out of the car when Claire already heard a woman´s voice, shouting.

“James Fraser! Where the hell have ye been? I´ve been calling ye all day. Yer mobile was on, but ye daft fool didna bother to answer me. We had to come and see have ye broken your bloody leg… or are ye deid, ye clot-heid!”

“Ach…I must have left my phone home…Sorry, Jenny, but am here now and no hurt, so dinna fash y´self…”

Claire knelt down and petted the dogs, observing the siblings together. Where Jamie was tall, strong-built and red-haired, her sister was tiny (only by size, she immediately noticed) with black curls and ivory skin. They both had Fraser eyes though, slanted and deep blue.

“Hmph”, Jenny grunted, not looking pleased with his answer. “Are you no introducing me to your companion, then?”, she asked with a prickly tone.

“Jenny…This is Claire. She is staying here for a few days. I take it Ian told ye about her… Tell me that is no the reason for ye being here?”, Jamie smirked.

Claire stood up, ready to greet Jamie’s sister, but Jenny just made a low grunt and turned on her heel back into the house. Claire pulled back her hand, feeling confused, but perhaps that grunt was a Scottish greeting or something as Jenny tossed a look over her shoulder and snorted:

“…Hoot are ye waiting for?… I´ve made some supper for ye and ´tis getting cold.”

Rolling her eyes with astonishment, Claire looked at Jamie, but he only seemed to be amused by the situation, smiling to himself as he picked up her bags from the car. Then he waited for Jenny to go into the house and pulled Claire against him, kissing her softly.

“Just be ye´self, Sassenach. Ye´ll do fine. Let´s go in and have something to eat.”

Claire was relieved that Ian and their two-year-old son were waiting for them in the house as well. At least last night Ian had been a laid-back type with a good sense of humour. Almost the opposite to her feisty wife.

“Hello Claire! Nice to see ye again. I hope me wife didna scare ye too much. Wild horses couldna keep her away when I told her that Jamie came home wi´ a lass last night”, Ian greeted her, grinning, and gave her a glass of whiskey. “Sláinte!”

Jenny just snorted at her husband´s comments and continued bustling around from dinner table to kitchen and back again. It did not take long until everything was ready. Jenny had made them the most delicious Scottish lamb stew and she even seemed pleased when Claire gave her well-deserved compliments over the meal.

Having dinner with Jenny and Ian was not as awkward as Claire had thought it would be - thanks to both men – who kept the the normal conversation going – and wee Jamie, who was a lively toddler, but when they had finished eating, all the unsaid questions started echoing in the room (or at least they did so in her mind).

Ian and Jenny had not asked anything about Jamie and herself or why she still was here, even though curiosity was written all over their faces. Jenny had observed them very attentively during the dinner, focusing especially on her brother every time he was talking to Claire.

Claire could feel the anxiety rising within her. The last thing she wanted right now was to tell those two about her divorce - God, she had only filed for it this morning - or to answer their questions about Jamie and herself. Apparently, Jenny knew her brother so well that she had seen that something was going on between them.

Claire was sure that if she were to tell them everything, Jenny would probably kill her, thinking that she was some obscene trollop trying to seduce her poor baby brother. If Jamie wanted them to know details, it would be better let him do the talking. So, after finishing her drink, Claire decided to excuse herself on the plea of a sudden headache.

* * *

**After an hour,** Claire heard the door slam, dogs barking again and saw the car lights flashing across the yard. Ian and Jenny had left. She had been lying on her bed all that time, trying to make sense of the last 24 hours. Her previous good mood was gone and now she just felt miserable, lonely and puzzled.

Shame, shame, shame… That poisonous feeling overcame her as an agonising ache. It was not the same kind of shame she had felt that afternoon when Angus, the doctor, had examined her bruises. No, now she was wondering what Jamie had told his sister and what Jenny had thought of her. She was not perfect girlfriend material by any means… An English divorcee, who just a couple of days earlier had been still having a holiday with her husband. If Jamie had told Jenny that it was actually she who had invited herself stay at Lallybroch…  Well, Jenny would probably think that she had forced her brother to have her here.

And God.. what Jamie must be thinking? He had seen her with Frank just today and the very same day, only couple of hours later, she had practically thrown herself at him. No wonder he had backed off. The more she thought about things, the more twisted everything became in her mind.

She knew Jamie was alone now and oh, how she longed for him, his strong arms and calming presence, but she could not make herself get out of the bed. She hoped he would just come, rest here beside her and take away this darkness; but in her heart she was sure he wouldn´t come. When she finally heard a quiet knock on her door, she did not answer.

_It would be better for everyone if I just leave, sneak out as early in the morning as possible._


	10. A picnic in the hills

_Lallybroch 6.00 am._

**A wandering mind at night** is a dangerous thing.

It was six in the morning and Claire was sitting on the Lallybroch front stairs, drinking hot tea. A cuckoo was calling in the distance and the birds were singing, signaling that a new day was coming. The air was still rather cold and misty, the grass wet with dew.

She had pulled her mohair sweater over her knees and tried to hide her bare toes under it as well. Absentmindedly, she observed how an almost-blind old dog managed to navigate in the garden relying only on his nose. A cat proudly walked by, a fresh-killed mouse in the mouth. A perfect late-summer morning in the countryside, that was.

Except she had not slept much last night. Barely a few hours.

It really had been the night of lizards and all the other mean creatures you can possibly imagine. The darkness had been so impenetrable it had almost drowned her. She had planned to leave Lallybroch without saying a word, call a taxi regardless of the cost and sneak away. Just run, run, run - away from everything. Hide herself from her own emotions she could neither control, nor recognise.

At some point she had hated everything. Frank, especially, deleting every single photo of him from her phone and from her Facebook as well. She had even changed her profile name from Randall to Beauchamp as she could not wait for the moment she was really able to cut all real-life ties with that bloody unfaithful bastard.

She had also hated Scotland - because her life had turned into a mess here; her parents, who had died and left her all alone so young; Jamie - because he was so damn perfect and she could not resist him; and herself - because she was too bloody weak and didn´t know what to do with her life.

But then had come the dawn with a beautiful hope of light and she had realised that she could not run away - she could never do that, not to Jamie, who was sleeping in the next room. Jamie, whose kisses she still could feel on her skin. No, she was not a person who escapes.

_Still - if only I had met him some other time. Everything would be so much easier. If only…_

She sensed him coming before she actually heard anything and then his warm hand already was on her shoulder.

“Sassenach. Mornin…Are ye alright?”, he whispered softly and stroked her curls gently behind her ear. His voice was still rough from sleep.

“I suppose so. At least now I am.”

He sat behind her, wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tightly against him between his thighs. By unspoken consent they just sat there in silence. Slowly her breathing adopted to his rhythm. His body radiated warmth - she no longer was cold.

* * *

_Lallybroch 11.00 am._

**“Are these the only shoes ye have?”** Jamie asked, looking at her colorful sneakers in disbelief.

“Noo, but I suppose I cannot hike in heels or sandals, either. Is there something wrong with them? I intentionally bought them for hiking in the Highlands”, she answered, a little defensively.

“What did you say?” Claire could not hear for sure, but it sounded as if he was muttering something about _city girls_ when he turned away to pick up his rucksack.

“Nothing, mo nighean donn”, he grinned and stroked her hair away from her eyes.

“What does that mean? Are you now mocking my shoes in Gaelic?”

“I´ll tell ye that one day”, he said and silenced her possible protests with a soft kiss.

After a slow morning and a long breakfast together, Jamie had suggested they go and check how one of his herds was doing in the hills. That was where they were heading right now - with a packed lunch of sandwiches, bannocks and fresh fruit with them as Jamie had thought it would be nice to have a picnic there, afterwards. Their provisions included whiskey, of course, because no true Scotsman would go to the hills without his sporran flask - so she was told.

Jamie packed four of his border collies to his old pickup truck, one was sitting between them on the front seat and other three in the open back. “`Tis no so far and we drive only small and bumpy roads”, he reassured Claire, who worried about the safety of those poor creatures.

The road was bumpy indeed. Claire thought that in some other parts of the country it would not have been called a road at all. The tires hit all kinds of pot holes and she had to hold onto the seat to keep her balance. The self-made traffic signs, warning of lambs, amused her, but she noticed soon that they were all but unnecessary. Sheep were feeding on the shoulders of the road and the lambs were jumping on and off road wherever they wanted to. They even met a couple of cows standing in the middle of the road. When Jamie pushed the horn they only scowled at them lazily.

“What are we doing with the sheep, exactly? Can I be of any assistance to you?”, Claire curiously inquired when they finally arrived at their destination.

She could see white dots moving here and there along the hillsides and she had absolutely no idea how the sheep were taken care of.

“Weel, as I told ye before…”, Jamie started, but then his expression darkened as he remembered that he had actually told her and Frank about herding when they had visited his farm, together.

She noticed his hesitation and helped him to carry on. “Yes, you told me that the dogs are important and a big part of doing the work…”

“Aye”, he sighed. “We are about to herd the sheep from one pasture to another. First they must be gathered together and then the dogs drive them up the hill again so they spread more evenly to new places…”, he explained, letting out the dogs, who seemed to be very excited to go to work.

Jamie let her try to instruct the dogs couple of times. She was as excited as a child in the candy store and extremely proud of herself as the dog actually started to go clockwise around the stock when she yelled _Come by_.  

“Look, look! It worked! I did that, did you see?”, she shouted and tugged his sleeve.

“Aye, I saw that Sassenach. Ye are really good”, he smiled, tenderly, at her excitement.

Well, that was about all she could do. Jamie mainly instructed the dogs with different whistles. Each dog had their own sounds and every whistle had a meaning of its own. It was far too complicated for Claire to try, she just admired the effortless way Jamie did all that and how he was handling the animals.

Sheep were rather docile, but still they had to be handled - not roughly - but confidently. Claire had to admit that she preferred to keep a safe distance from the long-horned and mean-looking creatures who stared at her rather intensely. It took a few hours to get the hundreds of sheep together, quickly check their well-being and then drive them away again up to the hills.

* * *

**When the work was done** , they hiked upon the hillside of heather and sedge themselves. Sun brought vibrant life to all that green around them and the views were exhilarating. A loch was shimmering below and more distant mountains were misty blue.

“This is not so bad…”, she pointed out, dreamily, as they walked up the zigzag path. “Being a sheep farmer, a shepherd, I mean. I could do that myself. Such a heavenly peace here.”

“Ach…Scotland seems to love ye, Sassenach”, he smirked. “´Tis the second sunny day in a row. ´Tis no as nice when water is hammering and beating down, which is quite often. In the Highlands we have more words for rain than Eskimos have for snow, ye ken.”

“Yes, but right now it seems that me and my lovely, non-Goretex sneakers are doing just fine”, she poked his side, teasingly.

They found a sheltered place for their picnic and sat down. They did not talk much, just ate in companionable silence enjoying each other´s presence and the scenery around them.

Claire threw herself on her back and stared upwards into the blue sky. The herby scent of blooming heather reached her nose and her lids became heavy.

“If I fall asleep, don´t you dare to sneak away and leave me here…”, she said after a while, drowsily.

It did not take long before she actually was asleep as the previous night of the living nightmares took its toll. Jamie reclined beside her, hands behind his neck. He was not so tired, but still nothing felt better for him right now than to lie there beside her.

Claire turned around in her sleep and nudged against his side. She seemed so trusting, yet very fragile, he thought. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he picked up his phone and took a photo of his sleeping beauty. Then he twined one of her curls around his fingers and stroked her back, very gently. She let out a silent moan and crawled even closer to him, seeking his warmth like a baby koala. Eventually, her head nestled into his ribs and her leg was wrapped over his hip.

_God. If I only could keep her like this forever_ , he thought closing his own eyes.

* * *

**Jamie was slipping in and out of consciousness** , but still he could tell the exact moment when Claire woke up. Her arm tensed, only slightly, and she rubbed her chin into his chest. He opened his eyes only to notice that she was peeking at him under her lashes.

“Hi”, she whispered.

“Hello to ye”, he murmured and brushed lightly her nose with her finger.

“Did I sleep for long?”

“Dinna ken. I have snoozed myself.”

“I didn´t sleep much last night, you know…”

“Aye? I was a bit worried for ye…”

“You don´t have to… I´m alright now.”

Her husky whispering sent shudders over his body and made blood throb heavily through his veins. And her soft body, molded against his side… well, he just could not think of anything better.

He let his eyes linger on her hips, the endless length of her thigh that was wrapped around him and the sweet roundness of her arse. God, how he longed for her to be his, in every way possible. Soon, his hand was following his gaze, tentatively stroking those tempting curves.

He looked back into her face and their eyes locked. The depth of her gaze just drew him, deeper and deeper, until there was no way out - not that he ever wanted to escape from her.

There was a silent promise in her eyes. A promise of warmth, passion, shelter, home - everything he could have ever dreamt of. And God, how those indescribable golden eyes could see straight into his soul - he just felt that this was the most intimate moment of his entire life.

Never breaking that eye contact, he slowly ran his finger down her jaw, along her neck, following the curves of her breasts, down her slim stomach and onto her thigh.

His every move was so lingering and deliberate that time just stopped. Minutes and hours no longer existed; their touches and gasps were measuring time. When his finger found her thigh, she instinctively opened her legs a bit wider, sighing, and a wave of goose bumps covered her arms.

Slowly, very slowly, he slid his finger back the same way, still watching her, forever watching those mesmerizing eyes. Then, he slid his finger down again, his touch being as much a question as it was a claim.

“Jamie…”

“Aye?” His voice sounded strange in his own ears.

“Touch me”, she breathed and guided his hand to her belly, placing it on the button of her cargo pants. She was not sure if this was still a dream, but if so, she never wanted to wake up.

“Are ye sure?” He barely could talk.

“Yes…Please…”, she said, closing her eyes.

Together they popped the button open. When he slid his hand under the panty line, feeling the soft bare skin of her belly, he just had to close his eyes. His hand had now of a will of its own, it sought its way further down until it met the hot slickness between her thighs. The sensation made him hold his breath. He didn´t know what he had expected but whatever it was, it surely paled by comparison with reality. Slowly, he started to move his fingers, exploring that hot dampness and her body rose up to meet his touch with a moan.

That sound again. God, he loved those sounds - her whimpers and moans. He opened his eyes to watch her. He could not get enough of watching her - the fleeting emotions on her face, her hooded eyes, half open mouth and her shivering body.

He could not believe that he was doing that to her. His hands, his strokes, his fingers now so deep inside of her. She allowed - no, wanted - him to do this.

She truly was his water goddess - now panting, swollen with need, hot, oh so wet and utterly beautiful. Everything in her was beautiful. He listened to her, carefully, to discover which motion would made her moan most with pleasure.

“Do ye like it?”, he gasped. “Do ye like…me touching ye?”

He already knew, but he just had to hear her saying it. Hear her say something.

“God…Yes…It feels so good…” Her voice was dark, strangled. “Jamie…I want you inside me…”

His cock was pulsing, almost painfully, and he already had pressed his hips against her side, seeking some relief, but he just could not stop looking at her.

“Nay, mo nighean donn, no just yet… I wanna…watch ye…”

His eyes never left her face, but he was consuming her through all his senses. His fingers danced around in circles, faster and harder, and those wet sounds just made him half mad with lust. The deep scent of her arousal was like a heady perfume and he inhaled it with every breath he took. Then, all of the sudden, her legs started to quiver, her back arched and she grabbed his hair pulling his face against her mouth.

He felt her shattering, convulsing and tightening around his fingers as she was crying out his name.

* * *

**At length, Claire´s eyes opened** and she gazed at him.

She was slowly coming back to herself and noticed that Jamie was holding her against him, stroking her hair and whispering something in Gaelic. His eyes were closed, but he must have sensed the change in her because he opened them and smiled.

“Happy, Sassenach? Ye are so bonnie, mo ghràdh…”, he murmured and touched gently her lips with his fingers. “Dinna feart, but I´m afraid we are having a wee audience…”

“What?!” She jumped and tried to pull herself away from him, looking around them, mortified.

“Hush…dinna feart, I said”, he snorted in amusement and held her tight.

Four border collies were lying just behind his back and they started to wag their tails as she peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh, you bloody–” She tried to punch at his chest but he grabbed her hands and silenced her with a kiss.

“They thought that ye were in trouble and came for rescue, ye ken…”, he was openly laughing now. “They tried to get me off ye. Not used to see this kind of activities, poor things, and ye were rather loud, Sassenach.”

“Oh…”, she said again and blushed. “I was not…”

“Aye…ye were… screaming my name, over and over again…” He said teasingly.

She buried her face into his chest, embarrassed. “I did?”

“Aye, but dinna fash. I loved it… Loved when ye called for me”, he chuckled into her ear. “I love all the sounds ye make…”

Their tender moment was suddenly interrupted by four eager dogs who had gotten overly excited about their master´s laughter. They jumped on them and rolled over them, trying desperately to lick their faces. Giggling, she tried to push the four-legged kissers away, but it did not help much. Eventually, Jamie had to stand up and give a command to calm them down.

“God…” She pulled herself into sitting position and stretched herself after the friendly attack. She was smiling, still a little breathless, but when she turned to look at him, her eyes were suddenly rather serious. “Jamie…I´ve got to ask you something…”

“Aye? What´s on yer mind?”

“Why didn´t you…uh…I mean…You didn´t…Oh, bollocks!…”, she blushed, closed her eyes, frowning her forehead, and tried again. “Don´t you want me? Is it because I´m still–”

“What?!”, his eyes were on stalks when he heard her. “Not want ye?”

“Well…”, she still could not open her eyes. “I kind of asked and you didn´t…so I wondered was it me or–”

“Christ, woman, dinna think too much!”, he dropped to his knees and grabbed her shoulders. “I wanted ye so much I was afraid my balls were gonna burst, but then the damn dogs came and I already had to use my leg to keep them away from ye. I didna feel like I want them to sniff my bare arse, next, when I´m on ye.”

There was no missing the frustration in his voice and it sounded so genuine that it was rather easy for Claire to picture that - four curious dogs sniffing his bottom while he made love to her - and she burst out laughing at the image.

“I dinna see what´s so funny about my aching balls”, he snorted, but his mouth twisted into smile as well.

“It´s not your balls, dear, but your arse”, she giggled, not able to stop.

When she finally calmed down, he continued. “Aye.. but ´tis true, Sassenach, that I dinna like it - ye still being marrit.” She furrowed her eyebrows as he did the same, clearly trying hard to find the right words.

“I ken ye feel that your marriage is over, and I believe ye. Still, I´d like it better if ye had no ties whatsoever… And this all has happened…well…fast for ye…and for me too…maybe I just did no want to rush ye into something ye might regret later, ye ken.”

She watched and listened to him, carefully, but saw only sincerity in his eyes. “Yes, I know. It has been fast, but I don´t regret anything…”, she whispered.

“Aye…And I´ve been thinking that…no matter the circumstances, ´tis no usual…what we have between us…when I touch ye and…” An unsaid question flashed across his face.

“No, it isn´t usual. This is something…different”, she assured him.


	11. "You want to come to bed wi´ me, then?"

 

> _Later, weeks - no, months later, she thought that it all had been inevitable. Perhaps it already had been that since the very first moment they met - when she was visiting his farm and heard the mountains calling for her. Perhaps it was not just the mountains she had heard, but him as well. His body calling for hers, inviting her, persuading her. Telling her that they belonged together, almost as if in another place and time they´d already have been one and only cruelly separated._

_Lallybroch 07.00 pm_

**Since Jamie and Claire** had come back to the house from the hills, they both had known what would be happening between them, it was only a question of when and where. 

The tension between them was palpable. It was present in every simple sentence and in each look they exchanged, making them extremely aware of each other - of their every move and gesture.

Claire was somewhat relieved when Jamie still had to go out to do his chores; feed the dogs and check the lambs in the field near the main house. She had a few moments to be alone - to breathe more freely and sort out her feelings. She decided to take a shower, change her clothes and start to prepare a dinner for them.

She was not much of a cook, at least if she compared herself to Jamie´s sister, but she enjoyed the scent of herbs and making simple meals, so she decided to try making something for them. Besides, slicing ingredients for a salad and making some oven-roasted potatoes was something she really needed right now. It helped her to get her thoughts away from Jamie - for a few minutes, at least.

Lallybroch’s kitchen was huge and old-fashioned with cold closets and a separate pantry. In her mind´s eye she could see how the servants had done meals there for the family, centuries ago. With a little searching, she finally found everything she needed and started her task.

She actually did a fine job and was a little proud of herself when she looked at the table setting. She had discovered a beautiful old bowl for the salad she had prepared and even lit the candles. Everything was supposed to be perfect - and it was - but when Jamie came, fresh from the shower, caressing her neck on his way to the table, she just lost her appetite.

Feeling that her stomach was tied in knots, Claire picked at her salad during the dinner, moving it from one side of her plate to another. Her glass, however, was constantly empty.

Jamie had no problems with eating, although he did not pay so much attention to what he was putting into his mouth. His focus was on Claire. He noticed that she had emptied more than half a bottle of white wine all by herself. He tried to keep the conversation running casually, but it worked poorly. The longer they sat at the dinner table, the more silent Claire became.

“Is everything alright, Sassenach? Ye are awfully quiet tonight…”,he finally asked.

“Oh, yes sure…I´m just…nervous, I suppose.”

She found it hard to understand herself. They just had a perfect afternoon in the hills and she did not regret anything that had happened. Absolutely not. But now the thought of being with another man made her suddenly nervous as hell. She was not so experienced, after all, Frank being the only man she ever been with, so this felt a huge step. What should she do with him, for god´s sake? She had simply had too much time to think about it. It would have been much easier if it would have just happened, in a way, like it almost did this afternoon.

He gave her a long, determined look, finished his drink, stood up and walked around the table, touching her hand.

“Nervous? Why?”, he asked, gently stroking her hand with his thumb.

“Well… Isn´t that obvious?”, she sighed and glanced at him quickly. “It´s in both our minds, is it not?”

Grabbing her wine glass with both hands like it was her only anchor, she tried to calm down but was only able to hear her heart, beating like a drum. The voice was resonating in her ears, fast and loud - da-dam…da-dam…

“Ah…I see…Sassenach… Ye dinna have to do anything ye dinna want to. I hope ye ken that.”

“Yes…I know… And I do. It´s not that…”

He turned her head and kissed her softly, making her loosen her grip on that glass. They just breathed each other in for a while.

“You do?…You want to come to bed wi´ me, then?”, he whispered against her mouth.  

“Yes”, she gasped.

“Are ye sure about it?”, he still asked, caressing her cheeks and chin.

“Yes”, she repeated. It was the only word she managed at the moment.

“Well, then…”, he said, taking her hand and helping her to her feet.

* * *

**Holding tightly to her hand** , Jamie walked them through first-floor rooms and turned off the lights, guiding her then towards the stairs. His hand on her lower back seemed to burn through her clothing and into her skin. When he gently caressed her spine with his thumb, her legs almost buckled under the sensation. With each squeaky step, her breathing became more ragged. Claire was sure she had never been as aroused or scared in her whole life.  

“T-to which room?”, she whispered when they reached the second floor corridor.

Clearly, he had not thought about it because he stopped and furrowed his eyebrows before he led them towards his parents’ old bedroom - the laird´s room, that was.

The room was dark and just like Claire had left it a couple hours ago, her suitcase on the floor and sweaters and the toilet case on the bed. Jamie walked towards a small desk lamp and turned it on. Soft golden light bathed the room.

“I dinna want to be…in the dark…”

“Jamie…”, she breathed. “Please, come here. I can´t stand this if you are so far away.”

He was only a few steps away but quickly crossed the room. She was shivering, still standing by the door, her eyes closed.

“Claire…” She could feel his breath on her face. “Hush…I was no going to jump on ye, ye ken…”

“No, I didn´t think you would…but it´s just easier… if we are close…”

“Aye…”, he gasped. “Let me hold ye for a bit and tell me when ye are accustomed to me again.”

Jamie wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face in his chest, inhaling his comforting manly scent, now mixed with his shower scent, something of sandalwood and lemon. It was weird, in a way, how his scent always had this calming and soothing effect on her, she thought, and remembered that she might have read something about it. That people actually were able to smell who would be a perfect partner for them. 

Jamie let her rub her face against his chest; inhale him. He was muttering some soothing words into her hair, but she could feel that his heart was beating with the same frantic rhythm that matched hers.

* * *

**Claire tried to set aside** both her panic and rational mind and just let herself feel him. It wasn´t that she did not want him. Quite the opposite - she wanted him so badly she could not cope with the feeling. But it was easier if they only were close to each other and let their bodies talk.

Carefully, she slid her hands under his shirt and enjoyed his warmth. Concentrating on her breathing, just breathing. Slowly, she started to caress his firm chest, eventually bringing his shirt up with her arms. She pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. After that she was finally able to open her eyes.

“It´s your turn”, she whispered and smiled, shyly.

Jamie noticed that his hands were actually trembling when he began to undress her. _No bloody wonder_ , he snorted inwardly… Good heavens, he had barely been able to think anything else since their intimate moment this afternoon.

He had wanted to just rip off her clothes and take her at the Lallybroch doorstep as soon as they got back to the house and those damn dogs were not bothering them any longer, but he had tried his best to take it slow, seeing that she was not ready.

Now he tried to calm his breathing and still give her all that time she needed. Slowly, he opened the buttons of her dark blue dress (bloody hell there were so many of them!) and slid it down her shoulders. Swallowing hard, he tried to keep an equal tempo with her underwear. His fingers traced the line of her black bras before they seek their way on her back and undid the catch.

And then - there she was - almost naked in front of him, wearing only her black knickers. Not shielding herself from his gaze, but standing and looking at him straight into eyes. He tried to smile to her, encouragingly, but failed. Instead he swallowed again. He took a step back to admire her until he remembered that she did not want them to be too far apart and quickly moved back.  

“God”, he gasped “Ye are so bonnie, Claire. I have never seen anything so beautiful…”

He backed a few steps to sit down on the bed and pulled her standing between his legs. Gently, he weighed her breasts in his hands, running his thumbs over the nipples.

“Christ…”, he murmured. “Yer breests… they are so smooth… and full… and round. I could just stay here the rest of my days.”

Unable to contain himself any longer, he buried his face between her breasts and squeezed them with both hands. He pressed his eager mouth on her burning skin. Kissing at first, kissing and licking and teasing her with his flicking tongue. Then finally sucking her breasts like his life depended on it. A starving man, that´s what he was, and she was a feast like no other.

* * *

**Claire had never experienced** anything like that. She did not have to worry about her rational mind anymore, because all thoughts vanished into pure sensations. Pleasure and desire shot through her body like electricity. She tried to hold in a scream.

This is insane, she thought, feeling a deep tension in her belly and her toes curling as if she was coming already. What was this man doing to her? God, he was good. This was good. So good.

Her legs were trembling and she could barely stand on her feet.

“J-Jamie…”, she sighed, grasping his hair. “Jamie…Please…take these off…”

“Aye?”, he said and lifted his face to look at her. His eyes were blurry and it took him a few moments to gather her words. “Oh, aye..”, he then gasped, stood up and quickly pushed his jeans and boxers down and stepped out of them.

Once removed his clothes, he tried to come back to her, but she placed her hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Wait. I want to look at you”, she whispered. The sight of him had almost taken her breath away.

Slowly, she started to walk around him, running her fingers along his shoulder to his firm buttocks, admiring the perfect naked male body. She let her breasts brush his back, feather-softly, enjoying the groan it elicited from him.

He truly was magnificent. She did not want to think about Frank at that moment but could not help noticing how different Jamie was in every possible way. Where Frank had been more like a lean and sophisticated type, Jamie was all power and energy, even when standing still. He could have been a model for ancient Greek or Renaissance sculptures with his strong thighs, defined abs and rippling pecs. She saw veins standing out in his arms and pulse beating at the base of his neck.

_Like Michelangelo´s bloody David_ , she vaguely thought.

Standing again in front of him, she noticed that he was breathing heavily, his eyes were closed and hands were loosely clenched into fists.

“Claire”, he panted when she let her hand run over his chest, lower and lower, until it finally stroked along the length of his shaft. He was trembling under her touch. “I havena… been wi´ anyone… for a verra long time. I´m afraid… I will no last long.”

“It´s alright, Jamie”, she said, her voice being a deep purr, came close to his face and licked once his lips with the tip of her tongue.

It was like a permission for him to move again and he did not hesitate but grabbed her hair and kissed her, jerking her forward. Plunged his tongue into her mouth - hard, deep, demanding. His hand was now pushing down her knickers, so desperately he almost ripped them off.

“Claire, I just need to have ye…”, he panted against her mouth as he lifted her up and started to carry her towards the bed. “I will die… if dinna have ye…”

* * *

The whole world seemed to stop for a few seconds as he set her gently on the bed and opened her legs wider with his knees. He gazed at her - her beautiful body that was so ready and willing, then her face - as if he was asking for her permission, yet he didn´t wait for any but placed himself at her entrance and - thrust into her. Deep into her.

“Oh God… dear Lord”, he groaned and just pinned her down on the bed with all his weight. “How can ye…feel so good?”

Claire could not answer. She just tried to breathe in pure pleasure at the way he was filling her so completely, both her body and her mind.

Then he started to move inside her, very slowly at first, almost withdrawing completely and then thrusting into her again, and she could not hold it back any longer but groaned every time he came into her, digging her fingers into his buttocks to pull him even deeper.

“Oh…yes…don´t stop…just don´t stop…”

Her every word and groan provoked him to plunge into her sharper and harder. Sweat started to break out his flushed face, his eyes were closed and he looked deeply concentrated as he tried to control himself.

“Ye… like it?…Claire?”, he asked, panting.

_Like it?_ _That must be an understatement of the year_ , she thought, but managed only one word - yes - as she already felt the familiar warmth beginning to spread inside her, from her inner thighs to her lower belly, increasing to a molten hot lava that finally exploded her to that sweet darkness and soft oblivion.

From a distance, she heard someone moaning, loudly, scarcely realising that it was her own voice. Vaguely, she noticed that with a few more fast thrusts Jamie had joined her and was now lying on top of her, his muscles melted and his face relaxed into a sweetest of smiles.

“Ye are no scairt anymore, are ye Sassenach?”, he chuckled into her ear.

* * *

**It was their night** , their first night together. Even asleep their bodies were seeking one another, but to be true, they did not sleep that much. It was a night full of exploration and glorious discovery, small revelations and sweet whispers. Laughter, that he had never experienced in woman´s bed before. Uncontrollable fire, that would have scared her if he`d have not been burning with her.


	12. “I already miss ye, mo ghràidh”

> _“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen and welcome aboard British Airways flight from Inverness to Heathrow, London. Our flying time this afternoon is estimated to be one hour and 38 minutes. I hope you have a pleasant flight.”_ **  
>  **

**Sitting at the window seat** , Claire watched outside as she waited for the plane to take off. Her gaze was on the horizon and on those beautiful, mysterious Scottish mountains once more. It had started to rain and she could not see much through the curtain of water. The current weather suited her mood rather well - grey and melancholic. The Highlands: her life had certainly changed here. Who would have known a week ago that she would be coming back to Oxford, not as Mrs. Randall anymore, but as Claire Beauchamp. Plain Claire Beauchamp.

She rubbed her shoulder and stretched her neck. A nice old lady beside her tried to start a conversation but Claire only smiled at her, weakly. She just needed to be in her thoughts right now.

One and a half hours. Jamie would be back in Lallybroch about the same time her flight would be landing in London. Back to his farm and to his dogs and sheep. She wondered what he would be doing this evening, where would he sleep - his old bedroom or that antique double bed they had shared the last three nights?

She could still feel his touch on her skin, his hungry lips on hers demanding her to open herself to him. Her whole body felt deliciously sore. If she closed her eyes, she was able to recall his thrusts inside her, that almost frantic rhythm he reached just before the end.   

The last two days had been all bodily pleasure. Carnal fiesta and fireworks. They had slept (a little), eaten (a little), talked (a little bit more) - but mostly they had just made love and cherished one another. Sex, that´s how people usually call it. A completely insufficient word, she thought. Their rhythms had emerged, coalesced, in every way possible. That was more like it. It had been wild, it had been fun. Tender. Passionate. Gentle. Raw. Mind-blowing. Comforting. He was all that. Jamie was.

* * *

**She blushed thinking** of their uninhibited play together. Murtagh had nearly caught them the very first morning they were sleeping in the laird´s room. That morning she had woken up to feel sweet little teasing butterflies between her legs. God, her belly still clenched when she thought about his flicking tongue dancing over her hot flesh. She had almost reached her peak when they had suddenly heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and his godfather´s voice calling for Jamie. 

Feeling terrified, she had tried to pushed Jamie away, but he had just grabbed her hips tighter and determinedly pulled her against his mouth, sucking her fiercely until the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced had crashed through her body. She had bitten the pillow, trying to stay silent, but failed terribly.

Just a few minutes after, she - being barely conscious - had heard Jamie and Murtagh talking to each other in the corridor. Or shouting to each other, that would be better description. She had only understood Murtagh´s first sentence:

“Ye clot-heid! Are ye now shagging another man´s wife? Ye shoudna think wi´ yer cock, lad!”

Jamie had switched into Gaelic, but the volume and the tone had stayed the same.

However, that episode with Murtagh had not bothered them much. Jamie had come back to their room, kissed her softly and told her that he had to leave and tend some businesses with Ian and Murtagh. He had been smiling and in a good mood. It seemed that no other people or bad words were able to break into their sweet bubble.

After Murtagh´s sudden visit (it would not have been so unexpected if Jamie only had remembered their meeting) Jamie had, however, kept the main door locked. And that was wise - considering that after he had come back home and found Claire arranging things in the kitchen, he just could not wait until the bedroom.

“Sassenach…Have I already told ye that ye have the most amazing round arse on this whole planet?”, he had declared when he had entered the kitchen, grabbing her bottom with his big hands and devotedly squeezing her buttocks.

Recalling that sentence still made her smile. Her round arse. She truly had heard that expression countless of times during the last couple of days.

She quickly closed her eyes because the eager lady beside her was about to interpret her smile as a willingness to engage in conversation.

_Oh dear friend, if only you knew my thoughts right now._ She almost started to giggle at the idea of telling that sweet old lady what _she_ had been doing in the Highlands. Not sightseeing the traditional attractions, that´s for sure.

Her amusement did not last long, however, because she remembered what had happened right after Jamie had told his verra important news concerning her arse. Gradually, his exploring hands had roamed under her dress, pushing up her skirts and found, well, only her.

“Ye wicked wee thing”, he had hotly gasped into her ear. “I hope ye were waiting for me, no somebody else…”

His fingers had continued even higher and he had groaned.

“God, Claire…Ye truly have missed me… Yer furry taco is…slippery…wet”, he had grinned devilishly.

“What!! Furry what? Nobody calls that a furry taco!”, she had burst out laughing, but it had lasted only a few seconds because in an instant she had found herself bent over that kitchen table, her amazing round arse up, and he had thrust into her in one clean stroke, so deep that it had triggered her womb and made her scream out of pleasure-pain.

“Are ye still laughing at me?”, he had teased her, slamming into her from the behind, hard and deep, again and again, his hands digging into her hips. “Aye… it seems that ye asked for this. Ye like it a wee bit rough, dont´t ye?”

Yes-yes-yes, she had screamed, begging him to take her even harder.    

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, her screams and his groans had filled the room. Oh God…She swallowed, squeezed her eyes shut, tight, and hold her breath to relish the memory.

* * *

**How was the same man** able to be almost violently passionate and extremely tender? That she was wondering now. Jamie had pushed her over her limits but he had also gathered her in his arms, cradling her like she was a newborn. He had disarmed her in so many ways. She had dared to expose herself to him, herself without any roles or shields, and he had seen her. Truly seen her.

Last night they had lied very close, drifting into light sleep only to wake up again, knowing that that would be their last night together. Sometimes their noses and lips brushing. Then tightly spoon like, his arm around her waist, hand on her breast, holding her close.

In the first light of dawn, he had been playing with her curls and softly blowing on her hair. Then he had whispered into her ear:  

“Sassenach… Do ye really have to leave?”

“You know I do”, she had answered him, sadly. “The divorce papers are to signed and I have to get my things from the apartment. And there´s my work…”

“Aye…I ken. I shouldna have asked…”

There had been a long silence, actually screaming with unspoken words. She had almost been able to hear him thinking.

Finally, he had said it. Very carefully.

“Are we going to…see each other again?” His voice had almost died away in his throat.

They had not really discussed about their future or their relationship, just lived it to the fullest, but now it had to be done. He had been the brave one to ask it first.

“I´d like that… Would you?”, she had whispered.

“Aye…”, he had gasped, quickly, and kissed her neck. “So, ye are…coming back, then?”

“Would you like that, if I did come back?”

“Aye…I´d like that verra much…”

“Well…I suppose…it means I am coming back…”

After her words, he had immediately rolled on top of her, his hands on both sides of her head and entered her, once more, very gently this time.

“I already miss ye, mo ghràidh”, he had whispered brokenly, moving inside her. “Please…remember me.”

_Like I never could forget you_ , she had thought.

Their eyes had never left each other until the very last moments of that tender love-making. Her hot tears had mingled with her moans as it all felt far too much like goodbyes.

She had his phone number in her purse. They nearly had forgotten to change the numbers. At the airport, just before she was about to check herself in, she had remembered that - almost panicking - and he had quickly borrowed a pen and wrote it down to her. She opened now her purse and looked at the note. There was a small, lopsided heart in the paper and a funny animal face of which she could not tell was it a dog or a sheep. Then his number and a letter - J.

Their last kiss at the airport. That she did not want to think about because it brought a frog into her throat. A single tear escaped from under her tight closed lids and she quickly wiped it away. God, her heart was already aching with the pain of missing him.

* * *

**A hand gently touched** her arm and she flinched, opening her eyes.

“Take this, dear”, the old lady was offering her a tissue. “May I ask, did you leave your sweetheart in Scotland?”

“Thank you”, Claire said, a little abashed. “Yes…I did…”

“Hmmm…I could tell. Scottish men, they do that to girls. If you´ve fallen in love with a Scot, dear, you never get over him”, she smiled, knowingly.

“Is that so?”, Claire got amused. Maybe talking with the lady would not be that boring after all.

“Oh yes, love. They may not be so good at showing their feelings and they definitely like their whisky too much, but between the sheets… well, they certainly know how to please their ladies”, she said and winked.

Claire nearly spit out her coffee, coughing, but her fellow traveller just gave her a sugary smile. Wrinkling her already wrinkled brows, she studied Claire carefully. “Believe me, dear girl. I know what I´m talking about…hmm…and I suppose you may know it as well.”

“Well, uh…”, Claire blushed and did not know what to say. Maybe the lady would not have been that shocked, after all, if she had told her about her previous thoughts.

_Bloody hell, is she some sort of a mind reader?…_

“I just visited the graveyard near Inverness to say hello to my first love. He has been lying there for over 40 years now but I still come, once a year, just to say hello to him. Oh-my, oh- my…that man certainly could kiss…”, the lady smiled with a nostalgic look in her eyes.

During the last 30 minutes of their flight, Claire got to hear the most heartbreaking love story. It was about a handsome Highlander and his beautiful English lass, who had met each other in Inverness at the end of the 1960´s and had the most amazing year together.

The boy had been a farmer, tied to the land, and he would have wanted to marry the girl, but she had been a hippie-like, young and wild and she had wanted to study and see the world, so eventually she had left him. When she had been travelling and studying abroad, she had realised, however, that she never got over that boy. No matter how far she had gone, she could still feel his kisses on her lips - as she still did, now, over 40 years later. After spending five years abroad, she had finally decided to return to the Highlands and go back to him, but when she had visited his home farm, she had been told that the young man had died in an accident and passed away only three months earlier.

“I promised him to come back some day and that is what I tell him every year when I visit his grave. I tell him that I´ve come back now.”

Claire had already been emotional before that story and she just couldn´t listen to it with dry eyes. Hot tears were flowing down her cheeks so abundantly that the old lady had to give her another tissue. Her tears were partly due to empathy and that touching story but partly due to her own story, that emotional rollercoaster she´d been through during the last seven days.

When their flight landed and it was time to say goodbye, the lady turned to look at her, very firmly. “Don´t make him wait for you too long, dear. I did and I never got to see him again”, she said and hugged Claire warmly.

Her words sent a wave of goosebumps over Claire´s arms. She had not told the old lady anything about herself or Jamie, still she chose her words as she knew. It was the oddest of feelings, like someone had just walked over her grave.

* * *

**If the flight had been** all about Scotland, Jamie, and the Highland love stories, in the airport bus from Heathrow to Oxford, Claire started to get more apprehensive, thinking about Frank and what would be waiting for her back home. Frank had not called her since that ugly encounter at Mrs. Graham´s, so she had absolutely no idea what the man was up to. Neither did she know how their divorce process was progressing because she had not heard from Ned either.

Claire had called Mrs. Graham once, only to find out if her home had been cleaned. It turned out that Frank had left Mrs. Graham a considerable sum of money to cover the expenses of those shattered vases and the broken front door, but he had not really told her what had happened. Mrs. Graham had been horrified when Claire had told her a rather smoothed version of the course of events. She had apologized again and again for her own role, having it hard to believe that Claire did not really blame her for anything.

No, Claire still did not blame her, but recalling those horrible moments at Mrs. Graham´s gave her shivers even now.

_On the other hand it was good it happened. It was definitely the final nail in the coffin of this bloody marriage._

Claire still had almost two weeks free from work and hundreds of things to do. Geillis had promised to pick her up from the station and Claire assumed that this night would go with her. So much had happened since they really had talked and she knew her friend was likely dying with curiosity. Tomorrow she should start to arrange for her relocation. Maybe she should hire a small warehouse for her things before she´d found a new place for herself.   

_Just one thing at a time, Beauchamp. Don´t think too far ahead._

When Claire arrived at the Oxford central bus station, she barely got out of the bus when she already heard her friend and saw her bright red hair.

“Claire! Over here!”, Geillis waved at her. Seeing her, as energetic as always, made Claire feel oddly safe and secure.   

After all that travelling, Claire felt weary enough, but it seemed that her friend knew her so well that she was able to see through all that. Geillis looked at her closely and almost shouted:

“Well, well.. Not looking as a miserable divorced woman at all. Girl, you´re practically radioactive. Now tell me, what the hell has happened?”

“Radioactive? What on earth are you talking about?”

“Well, to put it straight, honey, you look like you´ve been thoroughly fucked! And I know it had not been Frank, so who the bloody hell was it?”

She did not try to keep her voice down - she never did - and Claire blushed with embarrassment and tried to smile vaguely to two ladies passing-by, looking at them disapprovingly.

“But I suppose I have to wait to hear it all later, darling, because the scumbag husband of yours is back in town. Your neighbor, Genna, has tried to reach you and she just called me.  He is raging at your apartment and throwing out your clothes and stuff. We´d better go there.”


	13. God knows how he tried to forget her

**Winter in the Highlands** can be harsh. Storms from the north can increase to hurricanes, damaging houses, closing schools and stopping public transportation.

Jamie recalled that five years ago, almost one-third of Scotland´s sheep had died because of heavy snow and malnutrition. He was sitting in the Lallybroch library and reading his father´s old notebook, trying to find a marking of this catastrophic event, but there were only the usual statistics and notes of weather. Being in Paris at the time, Jamie could not remember it that well - it might be the storm had not hit Lallybroch that hard.

Howling winter wind was rattling the windows even now, but this year had not been so bad - not to the animals, at least.

In January, snow had blocked the roads for four days and left Lallybroch isolated, but fortunately electricity had worked and they had managed just fine. Murtagh had been staying at the house for weeks now and they had worked very hard, though, to keep their sheep fed and well, going regularly to the hills and giving the animals extra hay.  

It was February, so Jamie assumed that the worst would be behind them by now. Spring was coming soon. The rams had been put together with the ewes in October and in a month or so they would be having a busy time with the new lambs.

_That´ll be good. The more work, the better._

During this winter, Jamie had worked his fingers to bone. They had made lots of plans with Ian concerning the farm and decided to start their own whisky distillery. It was something they had talked about for years now, but this winter, Ian and Jenny had finally said yes to the family business. Jenny had also planned to diversify their income by engaging the farm’s potential for tourism. Perhaps already this spring, they would start a small weekend cafe and arrange herding demonstrations for tourist groups.

Jamie was sure that his da would have been proud of his way of running the farm. Yet never before had winter felt this long, lonely, and meaningless.

Not even the holiday season - Christmas and Hogmanay - had improved his mood. Jenny had done her best; the whole house was clean and decorated, the food was excellent, and he had been surrounded by life, noise, and joyous people. All that bantering and joking was, however, a little too much for him. He had usually gone to bed early, leaving the others to play cards and drink whisky. Preferring to have a dram or two in silence, he had watched the crackling fire in his own bedroom and read his father´s old notebooks.

This behavior was not like him at all and Jamie knew that his family was worried about him. He was more than aware that it was one of the reasons for Murtagh staying at the house and Jenny fussing around with all kinds of plans. Murtagh had never said a word but Jenny had tried to talk to him, several times.

“I knew that English _strapaid_ only meant trouble”, Jenny had once snapped, frustrated, as Jamie had one more time refused to talk with her. “Bonnie, aye, but she only used ye, bràthair. Was just having a wee bit fun wi´ ye but ye dobber became smitten wi´ her charms.”

Jenny had not been prepared to face his anger, back then. If Ian and wee Jamie had not been there, he probably would have thrown his sister out of the house.

“De do ghnothach! I’m pure done wi´ ye. Never talk about her again!”, he had shouted, his face turned red in rage, and stormed out the house himself.

It had happened in early October, almost two months after Claire had left for Oxford. Jamie had taken his dogs and hiked up to the hills, sat there for almost four hours, drinking whisky and gazing at the horizon with blinded eyes. After the incident, Jenny had not mentioned Claire anymore - she became a taboo no one talked about.

He had hated himself after that. Not for shouting at Jenny - they had yelled at each other since they were weans - but for believing her. The seeds of doubt had been sown in his mind and he despised himself for how they were now growing like weeds.

* * *

**Before that quarrel** with Jenny, he had waited weeks for Claire to call him, practically glued to his mobile, but the call never came.

At first he´d been worried sick that something bad had happened to her. He had tried to google her, find her on Facebook, but it was all in vain. Claire Randall did not exist in social media and the telephone number inquiry did not know her either.

A month after Claire had left Lallybroch, Jamie had visited Mrs. Graham, who was his only personal link to Claire, but the old lady had been determined and slammed the door in his face, saying that she was no longer going to get involved in Claire´s relationships. Well, after what Randall had done at her house, Jamie could not really blame her.

In the most desperate moments, he had even considered going to Oxford himself, knocking door to door if necessary, but his rational mind had stopped him, arguing that it would be pretty much a needle in a haystack.

Besides, she had his number, she knew where to find him. If only she wanted to.

When weeks had turned into months, a bigger part of him had started to believe that Jenny might be right. Claire had only known him… for how long? Five or six days? She had been in the middle of a divorce crisis; confused and very vulnerable. Maybe it had only been a short fling and great sex for her, nothing more - as his sister had said.  

Whisky was not a very good advisor either. During those dark fall nights, he had drank too much and too often, he knew it himself, and it usually made matters worse. His drunken imagination and emotions were running rampant, torturing him with thoughts and visions of Claire with someone else. A couple of times, these mental images had been so vivid he had thrown his glass against the wall and hurt his hand, slamming the closest piece of furniture.

Distracting thoughts and questions were tormenting him. What if Claire had thought that it had just been a wee bit fun for him? Would it all be different, if only had he told her how he had felt from the very beginning - that they really belonged together. Bitterly he blamed himself for not taking that risk, for not expressing his feelings more clearly.

There was a constant battle going on between his rational mind and his feelings, between his brain and poor heart.

Deep in his heart, he just could not believe that he could have been so wrong. Could. Not.

Recalling how she had softly cried in his arms when they had made love for the last time, well, he was sure that he had not imagined things in his lovesick heart.

And it just did not make any sense. Nothing did. Why she had not called? Why?

* * *

**As most winter nights** , Jamie waited until it was safe to close the fireplace dampers downstairs and then he turned off the lights and went to his bedroom - only to lie there in the dark, unable to sleep. He listened to the wind howling outside and the familiar night sounds of the old house: sighs and creaks of old timber. Rolling over in bed, he tried to find a comfortable position, but it was useless. It was one of these nights again. He just could not get rid of his thoughts, this desperate longing for Claire.

Since her departure he had been sleeping in the laird´s room.

It had been a rainy Thursday afternoon, he remembered the day like yesterday. He had watched her plane to take off and then driven to Lallybroch. Losing so many of his family members at young age, he was familiar with grief and sorrow. Never before, however, had he felt so…empty? Perhaps that was the right word.

Wandering around the house, he had finally ended up in the laird´s room and thrown himself on the bed. Closing his eyes, he had almost felt her there, beside him, under him, on top of him. Sleeping against him, her crazy wild curls all over her face, and whispering something silly and sweet when she woke up. Her presence was so strong in the room that he had decided to stay there.

To Jenny he had said that it was about the time for him to sleep in the main bedroom - after all, he was the master of the house now. During the next couple of weeks he had redecorated his old bedroom and moved his clothes and personal items to the laird´s room.

Jamie had tried to rein his imagination but it had not worked very well. He had constantly caught himself thinking about his future with Claire. Somehow she became inextricably intertwined with his everyday decisions. Stuffing his clothes into a huge antique wardrobe in the laird´s room, he had considered if there would be still enough room for her clothes. Painting the walls of his old bedroom, he had pondered what she might think of the color - whether or not it would suit a nursery.

Yes… Nursery, children, marriage, family. He had had time to think about all of that, and it surprised him a little of how he did not seem to have any hesitations. He would have wanted to start a family with Claire. He even had a bright vision of how he would have proposed her.

During the first weeks all these thoughts had made him smile to his own lovesick foolishness but after that they had only caused him pain.

* * *

**Jenny and Murtagh had been relieved** when Claire had left. Especially his grumpy godfather, who had strongly disapproved his involvement with a married lass, totally ignoring the fact that she had been filing for a divorce. But then they had noticed that he had become more silent by each week. Murtagh had given him long looks, muttering something in Gaelic when he had walked by, but he just could not talk with either one of them. How could he have explained them that he had just known - and still did - that Claire was the right one?

Jamie could hardly understand it himself.

Being a 24-year-old man, he had had his share of relationships and crushes. Since his early teens, he had been a strong and handsome lad and girls had been drawn to him as long as he could remember. Teenage infatuations, well, they had all been just fun, innocent kisses here and there.

In Edinburgh he had had one serious girlfriend but it was only Annalise, la petite Parisienne, he had really been in love with. Or so he had thought. She had left him for another guy after a seven-month-long relationship and he had been heartbroken - well, at least three weeks.

_Oh Lord have mercy… I did no ken a bloody thing. What is three weeks? I would stand on my head for three months to get Claire back. Or to know what has happened to her._  

There was something between him and Claire he just could not explain. Making out with other lasses had been fun and it had made his body thrum. Sex, well, not that he was so vastly experienced, but he had always enjoyed it as well. But with Claire it was all different. He had wished to bury everything of him inside her, not just his cock. His soul, his heart, all of him. And wanting her - it had never stopped. Even when they had just parted, he had longed for to be inside her again.

* * *

**He had tried to forget her.** God knows, he had tried.

There had been nights like this when he had been lying on this very bed unable to sleep just because of boiling rage. He had been furious with her for her disregard. And there had been days as well when he had been so angry that everybody around him had surely felt the rough edge of his tongue.

When the New Year had arrived and Claire still had not called, Jamie had decided that he should try to get over her. Seriously try.  

Just a couple of weeks ago he had gone out with another lass. Jenny had wanted to arrange that date to cheer him up, seeing that her brother was only a shadow of himself. Not having very high hopes for the actual date, he had agreed, wishing that it would help him to get Jenny off his back.

“Laoghaire is a verra bonny lass, ye should go and give her a chance. She´s MacKenzie, ye ken, lived here all her life”, Jenny had said, implying that a proper Scottish girl would not let him down like that English woman had done.

Aye, she had been bonny and nice - and more than willing to give him all the comfort he needed. They had met at the local pub in Broch Morcha and after a couple of whiskies she had pressed her plump breasts against him in a way that left no questions. The pub had been crowded alright, but he had known that it had not been an accident.

He had been tempted, he could not deny that. When they had been standing outside the pub that evening, she had pressed her hot lips on his and put his hand on her breast, saying that he would not have to go home alone if he did not want to. Feeling that smooth roundness under his hand - yes - for a few seconds he had thought to go and just fuck her to get rid of the pain and to forget everything in her bed.

Luckily he had not been that drunk that evening. Despite his bodily reactions, he had noticed that kissing her had actually made him angry.

It was not her, he wanted.

Not her lips, not that body, not her bed.

Realising that, he had known that he could not do that to the lass, not to use her like that, neither give her false hope. So, he had politely refused and returned to Lallybroch by himself.

* * *

**Jamie sighed.** Six months had passed and still not a single word from Claire. It was as if she had just disappeared, never even existed. These had been the longest and the loneliest months of his entire life.

Tonight he only longed for a deep, dreamless sleep because it was the only time he seemed to be at peace. At the same time he was almost certain that it would not happen. No, she would be following him into his dreams, haunting him as a speechless beautiful creature, as she had done so many times before. These dreams were so vivid that he usually woke up breathless, longing nearly choking him.

He glanced at the book on his bedside table. This winter he had sorted out his old university textbooks and started to read Latin again. Catullus. He did not have to open the opus to remember the verse he had in mind.

_“Odi et amo; quare fortasse requiris, nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.”*_

Bitter-sweet torture. Is that what love is all about? Fear and ache, only vanishing moments of happiness and pleasure?

 

(*“I hate and I love. Why do I do this, you may ask? I do not know, but I feel it, and I am tortured.”)


	14. Looking back everything seems like a strange dream

**Meanwhile a few hundreds miles south of the Equator**

“No men are allowed! This is a Women’s Health Clinic!” a plump and sweaty midwife shouted through the open door of a portable tin building.

Claire sat inside the caravan that housed the small clinic and listened to the crowd outside. As she did not understand the language, she tried to interpret the tone of the voice, but couldn’t quite figure out was it an emergency situation or not.  

”No! This clinic is only for women!” the midwife shouted again, waving her arms wildly and Claire heard her cursing as she slammed the door shut.

“What´s going on there?” Claire asked as her fellow nurse returned to the room.

“Oh, nothing really. Just those young guys, you know. Following the girls again. They are drawn to this place like moths to the flame”, she huffed.

“Same ones as yesterday?” Claire frowned her eyebrows and tiredly smiled at her. “Hey, will you shut the curtains as well. They’re now trying to peek in through the windows,” she pointed out.

“Oh you silly brats… Get out of there!” the midwife yelled, pulling the curtains shut. “We’ll be scorched to death if all the doors and windows are closed,” she panted, wiping sweat from her flushed face.

”Don´t worry, we’ll manage. These two are the last patients today. It does not take so long,” Claire reassured her colleague and turned to talk to the girls who were sitting side by side on the small bench, giggling nervously.

Claire checked their patient information, realising that the girls were only sixteen. Yet both were married and carried cute little babies on their hips. It was not exceptional under these circumstances. Life in the Tanzanian refugee camp was insecure, the fear of rape was always present, and Claire knew that many parents felt that they need to protect their daughters by marrying them off as soon as possible. Her job was now to counsel the girls about birth control methods. The girls started to giggle again as Claire told them about pills, showed them condoms and demonstrated how they were used. However, they obediently promised to explain it all to their husbands.

”If your husbands don’t understand, just send them here. I`ll explain it to them”, the midwife encouraged the girls as they were leaving and closed the clinic after them. “Oh Jesus”, she sighed, took off her shoes and started to rub her feet. “Let’s hope their men are actually willing to use those.”

“Well, I kind of doubt it. The other girl just said that she wouldn´t want another baby yet, but her man still wants one. But there’s not much we can do about it. Just give them counselling and support,” Claire said. The feeling of inadequacy was constantly present in this work, but gradually she had learned to deal with it. She could not help the whole world but every individual mattered.

As always, it had been a long day. Their shift at the Red Cross Health Clinic had started 12 hours ago. Claire´s legs were stiff and swollen in pain and her stomach was growling.  The mere thought of food and rest was glorious. Quickly, she checked her schedules and duties for the next day.

“It seems I’m not going to be here tomorrow,” Claire noticed. “It’s the new arrivals day. I have to meet the buses and identify those with urgent health issues.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I like working with you,” the midwife smiled. “But let’s wrap it up for today, shall we. The canteen is still open and I’m starving already.”

* * *

**After having a small supper** at the canteen, Claire shambled towards the nearby lodge for the health workers. At the door she stood still for a second, looking up in awe at the black-velvety African night sky, and took a deep breath. Every now and then she tried to stop and internalize the fact that she really was here. As the daytime hours were always busy and passed so fast, she barely had time to think. At night she did.

The equatorial sky was like an enormous time-piece. It was dark twelve hours and light for another twelve. During the day you could just look up and know what time is it seeing where the sun stood in the sky. Night was vast and peaceful, but never quiet. The stars hung so low that she felt she could almost reach out to pluck them. The night birds screeched and hissed over Claire´s head and she still could feel the hum of the insects. She relished the feeling of cool night breeze, which scattered goose bumps across her bare arms. After the hot day it felt like a lover´s tender caress on her skin.

However, tonight she was too tired to stand there for long. She was even too exhausted to wash up properly. Once she was back in her room, she quickly removed her scrubs, climbed into her bed and pulled down the mosquito net.

“Hi dear… Do you mind if I read for a while?” she whispered to her roommate Lauren, who was a French student nurse and already lying in her bed.

“Non… Go ahead. I´m not bothered. Bonne nuit,” Lauren muttered drowsily.

“Bonne nuit, hun,” Claire smiled. During the past months she had become quite good friends with Lauren, even though she was almost ten years younger and Claire felt she was a kind of mother figure to her.

Actually, Claire was not going to read but write her diary. She’d decided to keep a professional journal once she came to Tanzania, but rather quickly it had become a very private one in which she poured out her heart. She really enjoyed these rare moments of peace with her tiny book and the pen. Absentmindedly, she browsed the previous pages of her journal.

> **_Tanzania September 15th_ **
> 
> _It´s hard to believe that I’ve actually been in Africa for almost two weeks now. The refugee camp near the Burundian border is well-organised and the other volunteers and the personnel are simply amazing. The team spirit seems to carry them through all the daily challenges. The people who’ve been working here the longest have developed rather dark sense of humour, but I suppose that is what people do when they work under hard circumstances. It has turned out that my nursing skills are just adequate - at least insofar as all my worries were in vain._
> 
> _We usually start our day before the dawn to take advantage of the cooler morning temperatures. It’s rather hot during the day and surprisingly cold at night. I´ve managed to burn my skin several times and I don’t even work outdoors! And they tell me the hottest months are still ahead… The wind rises in the daytime and blows dust all day long. There´s dust everywhere; inside the lodges and trailers, in the cars and it sticks to my skin, the sweat acting like a clue of worst kind. But no, I´m not complaining._
> 
> _We work six days a week, 12 hours a day so I don´t have to worry too much about having free time, but yesterday I actually had my first day off. I attended the Serengeti safari with Lauren, my roommate, and words just can’t do the place justice. We spotted lions, leopards, zebras, baby elephants playing in the river, mating hippopotamus… It was unbelievable. Our guide told us that the name “Serengeti” means “land of endless space” and it certainly was an universe of its own…_

> **_September 20th_ **
> 
> _Looking back now everything seems like a strange dream. Tonight I almost had to pinch myself to realise that here I am - I have actually resigned my job in England, I am working as a nurse in Africa and my future is wide open. It’s both frightening and exhilarating at the same time. But it was something I just had to do to find myself again._
> 
> _I don’t think about Frank or my failed marriage that much. And I certainly don’t regret anything. Our divorce process is progressing. Ned has promised to keep me informed so I can apply for the degree absolute as soon as possible. It will probably take couple of months - then it will be officially over. I have still used my married name on the official documents, but here everyone knows me by my maiden name. It feels so good to be called nurse Beauchamp. My patients usually greet me cheerfully saying: Wakeye nurse B! It makes me smile every time._
> 
> _I´ve been thinking about how was it possible to lose myself in that marriage so completely. I know it did not happen in a flash and I was terribly young when we got together, but still… I´m determined not to make the same mistake again. I don’t want to depend on any man whatsoever!! Not in a way I was dependent on Frank. Now I really have to make a commitment to myself. I have to learn to value myself as a person again…_

> **_October 5th_ **
> 
> _I´ve been thinking about Jamie and it’s bloody horrible. I feel quite ashamed and guilty. There is not a plausible excuse for me not calling him. I´ve tried to write to him but I just don’t know what to say, don´t find suitable words, and as the time goes by it only gets harder and harder. After all these weeks of silence, how could I suddenly send him a letter from the other side of the globe?…_
> 
> **_October 20th_ **
> 
> _It´s three am. I just woke up from a terrible dream. It was about Jamie and that old lady I met on the flight from Inverness to London. In the dream the lady looked like an Old Testament prophet - she was wearing a long gown, her eyes were on fire and hair waved in the wind._
> 
> _With a voice like thunder, she proclaimed that I would never see Jamie again. Then she raised her hand and a view opened ahead of me. I saw Jamie, walking on the hills with his dogs, and he was absolutely beautiful. He was wearing a kilt (!) and looked like a medieval Highland warrior. His red hair was fluttering in the wind and I was just about to run to him as, all of the sudden, someone stepped on my long (!) dress and I could not move._
> 
> _It was a blond girl, who was staring at me with vicious eyes, and she hissed to me “Jamie Fraser was and is mine. And I will dance on your ashes.” Uh, I can still hear that death-wishing voice in my ears…_

> **_October 22th_ **
> 
> _I’m afraid I´ve made the biggest mistake of my life and I haven´t a clue how to fix it. After the nightmare the other night, the old lady and the details of her story have been haunting my thoughts. She warned me not to make my Scottish sweetheart wait for too long and I´ve got a horrible feeling that she was actually predicting my future._
> 
> _Now I know that I shouldn’t have listened to Geillis, saying that I was only having rebound sex with Jamie and it was not to be taken seriously. “Once you get past that first time fucking with someone else, you’ll get on with your life”. That’s what she said and she has a right to think and act that way, of course, but goddamned, we could not be more different. It was not rebound or revenge sex with Jamie. I knew it already when I was in Lallybroch. It had nothing to do with Frank. I simply don’t understand why my thoughts and feelings, which were so clear once in Scotland, became so blurred in Oxford._
> 
> _Now I also understand that I projected my hate towards Frank onto Jamie as well. After the last horrible fight with Frank at our apartment, I hated all men in fact. I wanted to make my decisions without any guy telling me what to do or where to go. And it was completely unfair to Jamie because he is not Frank - he is nothing like him._
> 
> _My only excuse is that was not myself. My emotions were so screwed I hardly knew what I was feeling. My world had just shattered, I was not thinking clearly. The only thing I was certain of was that I had to get away. The further the better…_

> **_December 15th_ **
> 
> _Maureen, my superior, asked me if I wanted to extend my assignment for eight more months. She was very persuasive, describing my skills and performance with extremely flattering terms. It stroke my vanity, of course, but I still don’t know what to do._
> 
> _It seems that I just can’t get that bloody Scot out of my head - no matter how hard I try! My rational mind tells me it would be a fool’s errand to give up everything and go back to Scotland to see him. I don’t know how he would feel about me now…_
> 
> **_December 18th_ **
> 
> _It’s 4 am. I had a dream which woke me up again. Not a nightmare this time but the most vivid erotic dream that involved Jamie. We were lying by the pond near the waterfall we visited last summer. It was drizzling and our naked bodies glistened and shined in the rain. I just needed to taste his skin, lick at his chest._
> 
> _“I want a bairn wi´ ye, Sassenach”, he whispered into my hair. “I want ye to carry my child.”  His words stirred feelings inside me I’d never thought I would feel. My body flushed with the arousal at the thought of having a child with him. Then he drove himself so deep inside me he actually reached my womb._
> 
> _I must have climaxed in my sleep. I only hope I did not make too much noise… Well, Lauren seems to sleep so probably I did not scream out loud…God I miss his touch. I miss him. Yes, I do miss him. Am I mad or what?_

* * *

**Absorbed into the text** , Claire had started to pet her thighs with long and slow strokes, and  almost jumped out of her skin as the night bird suddenly screeched just behind her window. She closed the diary. She did not feel like writing after all. Her body was suddenly pulsating with a longing so intense it was insane.

She turned out the light and watched Lauren’s face in the dimness of their room. Her friend seemed to be sleeping peacefully. For a moment Claire was tempted to wake Lauren to talk with her of the anxiety, growing in her chest.

It was February. Claire knew that an important decision lay ahead of her - just around the corner - she could not postpone it indefinitely. Maureen wanted to know whether she would continue her work in Tanzania or not. Gosh - it was perhaps the most important decision of her entire life. Should she go back or stay? And if she were to go back to Britain, then what? Should she contact Jamie? And if so - what should she do? Just negligently call him as if nothing had happened? Was she about to make a complete fool of herself?

It had been six months since she’d left Scotland, since her life had permanently changed. She had travelled over 4000 miles to find herself again and to prove herself capable and independent. Competent and free she was, she needed no more proof of that. But what she really wanted from her life? That was now the main question.

_Shit. Life is a goddam domino game. If you push the first standing domino, it sets up a chain reaction and you never know the full impact of what you say and do._

She had not started the previous domino effect, leading to her divorce and the affair with Jamie, but now she had to be the one pushing the brick. If even the smallest decisions have potential to make all the difference in life, how would you ever dare to make the big ones? The decisions you know would change your life and determine your future.

Claire rolled over in her bed and kicked the sweaty sheet off her body. All those unanswered questions made her stomach clench with anxiety. Ultimately it was about the risk to love again and she knew it.

To love is vulnerable. Love means giving it all. It´s a risk of being rejected and getting hurt. Love means giving up control and God only knows - that had never been easy for her. Life stays neat and tidy if no one ever comes too close, and  intuitively Claire knew that close was what Jamie wanted. Close and even closer. Under her skin. During those brief days in Scotland he had not just wanted her body but possess her mind and soul as well. It was intimacy. It was breathtaking. Frightening as hell.

  
But love also means never being lonely. Love means belonging to someone. Somewhere. And suddenly she remembered those misty mountains. Hearing them.


	15. God, she looks just as bonny as I remembered

**Spring in Scotland** was all yellow. Gorse was conquering heaths and moorland, blooming so bright it required sunglasses to look at it on a sunny day. Near Lallybroch dozens of hazel trees had all burst into bloom at once with ribbon-like petals of yellow. Jamie noticed that the primroses, which his mother had once planted, were also popping their heads up from the ground. No wonder yellow often represented new life, he thought, walking towards the main house.

“Jamie! Ye lazy-arse! Where are ye? Ye should carry these tables to the barn. And the benches too”. His sister´s voice suddenly carried across the yard, quivering with high-pitched stress. “Everything must be ready by noon.”

“Aye… dinna fash… We still have time”, her brother reassured her and grabbed the pile of wooden benches in his arms.

It was the eve of Beltane and the Lallybroch summer cafe was about to open its doors in one hour.

The horrible long winter was behind them and Jamie had finally started to feel better. At least he was able to sleep due to hard work and long days outdoors. The last few weeks had been terribly busy with the lambing and remodeling the old barn into a cafe.

Jenny, especially, had done a tremendous amount of work, cleaning and furnishing the barn and the final result was very cosy. There was an antique cash register at the service counter, which was made out of old wooden doors. Jenny had decorated the cafe with old kitchen pieces: copper molds, rusty chanters and beautiful pots and kettles. Blue-and-white checkered tablecloths and candles were waiting for the tables that Jamie was supposed to now carry in.

They had actually planned to open the cafe in June, but if Jenny started to work on something she was pretty much like a hurricane - there was really no way of stopping her. So here they were - waiting for their first busful of visitors a month earlier than anticipated.

_She is also a rather good supervisor_ , Jamie snorted inwardly, remembering what she had made him and Ian do during the last couple of weeks. Last night Ian had still tinkered with the cafeteria signs until midnight, sweating buckets.

“Jamie! Are ye ready? If ye are, come to the kitchen!”

“Aye-aye…coming!”, he yelled, hoping that the visitors would finally come so he could go to the field with them and leave Jenny and Laoghaire to take care of the cafe.

Yes…Laoghaire… That was another thing entirely. He could put up with her sister, bossing and fussing around, but Jenny had brought Laoghaire with her. He could tell that Jenny had not given up yet, she still had plans on him and that lass.

Just couple of weeks ago Jenny had mentioned that Laoghaire would be coming to help her with the cafe - just briefly said it - as if she was was testing his reactions.

“Aye?… Ye ken that I didna…uh… I have no called the lass since I went out wi` her?”, he had asked, a little embarrassed.  

“Oh. Why no?”, Jenny had fished for more information.

God. Blood may be thicker than water, but very often he wished he´d had a legion of brothers instead of this very nosy sister.  “I dinna see what `tis to do wi` ye, but it just did no feel right.”

She had answered him with a very Scottish grunt, but continued after a while. “Maybe you shouldna be so hasty, brother. She is a braw lass and besides, it would be daft to say no to free help. We need it, ye ken.”

So, Laoghaire had come and during the last week she had been at Lallybroch almost every day, helping them to mend the barn.

He had tried to stay as neutral as possible with Laoghaire, but she seemed to interpret even the slightest friendly gesture as a sign of something else. The harder he had tried to avoid her, the more surely had she been there, asking small favors, giving him long looks under her lashes and coming unnecessary close to him. Besides, it had been rather hard to avoid her as Jenny had asked her to stay to dinner every night. That was polite, of course, and more than reasonable, considering the amount of work she had done, but still he could not help feeling uneasy when she was present.

His dear sister had pretended not to understand him, when he had complained of Laoghaire’s mooning over him.

“Ye´d better see that she goes wi´ ye when ye leave”, he had warned Jenny, terrified by the thought that one of these nights Laoghaire would actually stay after them.

“Hmph…”, Jenny had grunted. “What´s wrong wi´ ye brother? I take most young lads would only be pleased if a bonny lass were interested in them.”

Perhaps he had looked serious enough because Jenny had not tested his patience further and Laoghaire had left with them every night. Thank God, Ian seemed to understand him, even though he was terribly amused by Jamie’s awkwardness and the whole situation.

Jamie lumbered towards the kitchen where Jenny was already waiting for him, a large tray on her hands. She had baked oat cakes, carrot cakes, cheese scones and traditional Scottish pies - as usual, there was plenty of everything that they would probably have enough for  a  cake marathon after this. Jamie took the tray and sneaked out before Laoghaire was able to say anything.

_Christ… Here I am, sneaking in my own house, goddamned…_  

Jamie did not know how he was supposed to put up with this - weekend after weekend. No, he had to make up something. Perhaps not today, but soon. Very soon.

* * *

**After leaving the tray** in the barn, he decided to take his dogs and check the sheep before the visitors would arrive. On his way to the field, he collected a few more sticks and brickbats for their Beltane bonfire. A moment later he already saw dust rising and heard the sound of a vehicle approaching Lallybroch.

_Good. They are a wee bit early. At least I dinna have to go to the kitchen anymore._

Jamie actually enjoyed the idea of presenting his farm to the visitors. He was proud of his inheritance and the Scottish traditions. There were plenty of interesting stories and details he was prepared to tell the tourists. He had been doing his homework during the winter, reading not only his father´s notebooks but also more of the local history.

The bus was nearly full, almost 40 people burst out - mostly old people and English families, he noticed. Good - he had reserved plenty of nursing bottles and children would probably like feeding the lambs. It started to drizzle but luckily his quests did not seem to mind the rain.

“We are in Scotland, ye ken! We have an old saying that if ye dinna like the weather, just wait for five more minutes”, he amused his audience and guided them to the field, telling about the Lallybroch history on the way.

When the herding demonstration started, Jamie concentrated only on his dogs and the sheep, explaining the audience the basic principles of herding and every single command he used to guide the dogs.

Once again, people seemed to be surprised how well the dogs knew their duties, how fast they moved and how obedient they were. Growing up on the farm, he seldom stopped to think about those things. He had learned everything he knew from his da as a wee lad and nothing was more natural for him than handling the animals.

After the demonstration, feeding the lambs and petting four-month-old border collie puppies, the visitors were finally ready to go in and have coffee. Jamie was more than pleased. Everything had gone well and their first visitors seemed to be content.

A little reluctantly, he strolled towards the cafe himself. He had almost forget the whole Laoghaire thing but it came back to him as soon as he approached the barn. He only hoped that Jenny and Laoghaire would be too busy with the customers to notice him.

Jamie sneaked in through the backdoor, took quickly his coffee and was just arranging juice boxes in the backroom as Laoghaire came in. She pranced on the doorway, one hand on her hip, the other twining her hair around her finger.

“Jamie…”

“Aye?…”, he sighed. _I should have known better not to come here._

“There´s one visitor, asking for ye…”, she said, lingerly, as if she was telling him something very personal.

“Alright lass, I´m coming.”

Laoghaire did not move but only turned sideways to let her breasts brush him as he passed by. Jamie did not say a word, but frowned his forehead, irritated.

_Ifrinn.. This has to stop…_ Still annoyed, he plastered a somewhat fake smile into his face to meet their visitor and came out of the back room.

That smile did not last long.

“Hello, Jamie.

* * *

**Jamie Fraser was known** for his ability to cover his feelings. Nothing ever showed on his face unless he wanted it to. This time, however, was an exception. When he saw the woman behind the cafeteria desk his legs gave away beneath him a bit and he had to grab the counter for support. For a second he was afraid that he would faint. He swallowed, hard, until he was able to answer her. That - truly - was - her.

_Holy Mother of God…_

“Claire.”

“Hi”, she half-smiled, nervously.

In his imagination he had met her in hundreds of different places, but not even once had he pictured that she would just appear in Lallybroch without a warning. Where did she come from? He did not understand a thing. How could she suddenly be here? At their cafe, of all places?

“So… “, Jamie tried to gather his incoherent thoughts. “Why…How… I mean, ye didna come wi´ that group, did ye? On that bus?”

“Yes, I did. Saw the herding demo. You were good.”

“Y-ye were in the field?…How…?”

“Back row. The hood. You did not see me”, with a little touch, she waved the hood of her dark green oilskin jacket.

Jamie did not know what to say. Everything just went blank in his mind.

_God, she looks just as bonny as I remembered. No, even more beautiful. Her skin is perhaps–_

“So… how are you doing?”, he heard her asking.

“Ach…fine, just fine”, he heard his own voice as if it belonged to someone else. “We have changed things up a bit  here since ye… uh…this cafe…and we are starting a distillery wi´ Ian this year.”

“Yes, I can see. The cafe is lovely. Busy with work, then?”

“Aye…and how are ye? Are ye alright?”

“I´m okay.”

“Are ye just… having a holiday or…?”

“Yes. Staying at Inverness. Saw your ad in the local paper and visited your web page as well. Very professional”, she tried to smile again.

Laoghaire had come out of the back room just after Jamie and stayed close to him. She pretended she was busy wiping the tables and arranging the cups and plates. Actually, she attentively watched Jamie and Claire and listened to that awkward and breathless dialogue. It did not take a genius to see that there were something going on between those two.

“Jamie darling, would ye help me wi´ these”, Laoghaire suddenly shrieked, giving him the most dazzling smile.

“Oh, aye”, his mind was so blurred he hardly noticed the lass, just lifted a couple of boxes to the shelf and turned around to watch Claire again.  

“Do ye want something else, ma´am?” Laoghaire´s words were pointed at Claire.

Laoghaire came to stand just next to Jamie, almost leaning against him. Her words were friendly, but one could not mistake her body language. It was very territorial. She looked up at his face, smiling, and tenderly stroked his shoulder. Jamie frowned his forehead, barely registering that touch. As far as he was concerned, Laoghaire no longer existed, but Claire noticed her gestures for sure.

“N-no, thank you”, she said, nervously. “The coffee is fine. I…I just wanted to come to say hello and see that you are alright…And it seems that you are well… and happy?”

“Aye… I´m alright.”

Jamie and Claire both started as the rufous bus driver suddenly stood up and loudly announced that their ride would leave in five minutes. The space turned into a general hustle and bustle of people leaving their tables and putting on their jackets and raincoats.

“I suppose that´s it then”, she gasped. “I wish you all the best… with the farm… and life… and everything.”

“Aye… Ye too…Claire.” His head was humming like a bee skep.

“Bye and thank ye for visiting us!”, Laoghaire shouted shrilly after her.

And then Claire was gone.


	16. "Why did ye come back then?"

_**What the hell was I thinking** , coming back here after nine months… For fucks sake Beauchamp…_

Claire sat on the bus, curled on her window seat and stared out with blinded eyes. The wind sent a spray of rain whipping against the window. She could hardly see Lallybroch’s yard, the field or the sheep anymore.

“I hope ye all enjoyed yer visit to Lallybroch. We´ll get going once all the passengers are aboard and safely seated”, the bus driver merrily announced and started the engine which coughed to life with an enormous shudder.

_Go-go-go goddammit! Just leave, right now!_

Claire was almost panicking, biting hard on her bottom lip, trying not to cry.

_A huge mistake! A bloody embarrassing, gigantic mistake!_  

Her inner voice mercilessly blamed her, whipping her with self-loathing and accusations. An iron taste filled her mouth, and she wiped her lips to realise her bottom lip was bleeding.

She had been aware of the risks, showing up at Lallybroch without calling Jamie first. It had occurred to her, of course, that he could have moved on and found someone else. A suspicious and gritty part of her had also pondered whether he would elicit such strong feelings in her as she no longer was in the middle of a crises, nor was she in desperate need of help and comfort. However, she decided to push her fears into background as she did not want  to get hamstrung by doubts and scepticism.

Once she had made the decision to leave Africa and come back to England, she concluded that her only option was to walk straight ahead, follow her intuition and the path of her dreams, no matter what the costs or consequences.

If a tiny bit of her had been uncertain of her feelings, those doubts were wiped away the moment the bus arrived at Lallybroch and she laid her eyes on Jamie from the bus window. Her heart started to beat madly, her hands were sweating and she had to concentrate to keep her breathing even.

Not wanting to disturb Jamie before the herding demonstration was over, Claire came out of the bus after he was already guiding the visitors towards the field. Hiding under her hood, she had stood behind the others and quietly observed him. She had admired how he took in his audience and smiled at his little jokes and quips, feeling terribly proud of the way he controlled the animals with such a sovereignty. She had watched his hands and beautiful auburn curls and ached with the need to run her fingers through that hair, to touch his face, to feel his hands on her skin. Her whole body had been thrumming with nervous expectation as she had waited for the right moment to approach him.

But it did not go as she had hoped. No happy reunion, only awkwardness and bewilderment. Cool politeness. And what was more - that beautiful young girl glued to Jamie´s side. Nothing could prevent Claire from feeling she was absolutely stupid and to blame for everything.

_Welcome to the real world Beauchamp… Of course he has a girlfriend. Did you really think he´d wait for you forever? It´s time to grow up, life isn´t a goddamn fairy tale._

* * *

**“Okay, lovelies. We are all here** , so off we go”, the driver announced and Claire felt that the bus was finally moving. She had closed her eyes, not wanting to see Lallybroch anymore, and now the moving bus made her relax slightly. The sooner she got away from here the better.

_Bloody, bloody Scotland, I must have bad karma with this place. I´m going to book the first possible flight back to London and never ever–_  

What the hell?! The bus had hardly gone a few hundred yards as it jerked to stop again.

Claire looked up to see what was happening and saw that the driver was talking to someone through the side window. Then the driver rose to address the passengers.

“Claire Randall. Is Claire Randall here?”, the driver loudly called out with a strong Scottish lilt full of rolling Rs.

Claire hadn´t been called Randall for months and being as upset as she was at the moment, she did not understand at first that the man was talking to her. It took a few seconds until she came forward.  “Yes…What is it?” Her heart was fluttering so madly she almost felt sick.    

“Weell dear…A drookit lad here wants to talk t´ye”, the bus driver grinned and opened the door as she walked to the front of the bus.

“Claire…I´m sorry lass…” Jamie was standing outside and the rain was whipping his face, flowing down his dark-red curls and cheeks. He did not have a coat on, but he didn´t seem to even realise it. “…I was…uh…so surprised seeing ye. Are ye…in a hurry? I mean…would ye like to stay for a wee bit longer? Have a lunch or something?… I could give ye lift back to Inverness later”, he asked, breathlessly. The bus had already turned to the exit road so he must have run fast to catch it.

Claire stood at the top of the bus stairs, confused by his sudden appearance and the feeling of despair and desperation that she still felt welling inside. She stared at him, completely mesmerized by the water droplets streaming down his face. He was soaked to the bone but she could only think how utterly handsome he was.

“Put the puir man out of his misery, dear. Answer him. We must be getting on, aye”, the bus driver friendly poked her on the shoulder.

“Oh.. yes”, she gasped, only now noticing that she´d been just gazing at Jamie. “Just wait for me to get my coat.”

She was vaguely aware of the curious looks from the other passengers as she jumped out of the bus. She pulled the hood over her head to protect against the stinging rain and they started to walk towards the yard, exchanging shy glances

“It was a hell of a shock, suddenly seeing ye here…”, Jamie smiled at her, quirking his eyebrows questioningly. He still looked a little baffled.

“Yeah…I suppose it was. I-I hope I didn´t cause you any trouble…”, she muttered, pulling her hood even deeper over her head.

“Trouble? What trouble could ye possibly cause?”

“Only that.. uh.. your girlfriend–”, Claire said and nodded towards the barn.

If looks could kill, Claire would not have gotten much further than where she was. When they reached the arched stone gate, Laoghaire stormed out the barn. Dodging the rapidly growing puddles, she hurried across the yard to her car. Claire started as she saw Laoghaire watching them, her eyes so full of hate and venom. There was something about her eyes that looked faintly familiar, but Claire could not quite tell what it was.

“The lass is no my girlfriend”, Jamie quickly interrupted her and his expression tightened.

“Oh, I see…”, Claire breathed and glanced at Laoghaire again.

_She certainly seemed to think she was or at least she was very willing to be_ , Claire thought, but mentally kicked herself to stay silent, knowing that she had no right whatsoever to be jealous.

“Let´s get in. The rain is only getting worse”, Jamie urged, wiping his wet face with both hands.

Ian and Jenny were standing in the barn´s doorway, staring at them. Ian waved to Claire, friendly as always, but Jenny just looked at them, her mouth squeezed into a thin line. She looked like she was about to say something as Jamie yelled that they should just go and leave the cleaning of the cafe for him to do. The determination in his voice made even Jenny shut her mouth and she disappeared inside the barn.

The sky had darkened rapidly, it was pouring rain now and a loud roar of thunder cracked nearby. It seemed daylight was finished even though it was only early afternoon. Jamie strode towards the house so fast that Claire almost had to run to keep up with him.

“Here”, he gasped, opening the main door and letting her in. “Is it alright if I go and change into something dry?” he asked and helped her off with her jacket.

“Yes, of course”, Claire answered and looked around. The hall was gloomy, but she did not want to turn on the lights. Not really knowing where to go, she just roamed aimlessly through the first floor rooms.

Remembering.

* * *

**It did not take long** **until Jamie was back**. Claire was looking at those old photographs on the library wall as she suddenly sensed him behind her. She turned around and gulped, seeing him in his simple white t-shirt and jeans, his feet bare and hair still damp from the rain.

Just looking at him made her skin prickle and body hum in a way she had not felt for months. Not since the last time she was here, to be exact. It was the weirdest of feelings. Her whole body ached to touch him, but there was an invisible barrier between them preventing her from doing so. After all those months apart, he felt familiar and yet very strange at the same time.

“It´s really good to see you Jamie”, she breathed, trying to break the ice and overcome the sudden shyness.

“Aye, ye too… Claire… D´ye want a wee dram?”, he went to pour them each a glass of whisky. He sat on the sofa beside her, leaned back against the settee and held his glass loosely in one hand. He seemed to be at ease, but Claire noticed the subtle cues in his body language, telling he wasn´t as relaxed as he might have wanted to look. His shoulders were slightly tense and he was careful not to come too close but kept space between them.  

Claire snorted inwardly. She knew it was useless to pretend she was not nervous as hell. Her hands were almost shaking and she had to keep the glass steady on her knees. She stared  at the amber liquid on her glass and thought that under the circumstances the stiff whisky surely would not come amiss. It was also a safe enough subject to start the conversation.

For the next hour they chatted over the drinks about the common things and everything related to Lallybroch, both careful not to touch on personal or sensitive matters. They did not look at each in the eyes for too long either, but only stole glances here and there.

Her rumbling stomach finally ended the superficial and polite discussion, loudly protesting not having any food that day.

“I´m sorry Sassenach… Are ye hungry? I promised ye lunch, yet I havena offered ye anything”, he responded with a grin.

“Oh I`m fine, really I am”, she smiled, her heart leaping. It was the first time he´d called her Sassenach and even though she was almost sure it had just been an accident, it warmed her heart nevertheless .  

“Well, I´m hungry anyway. Maybe we could do something together? Is pasta alright?”, he suggested and helped her up off of the sofa.

* * *

**Lallybroch kitchen** was just like the last time she had been there, of course, and the moment she stepped into the room a flashback shot through her mind, and it had nothing to do with food. Her heart started to beat faster as she watched the scene unfold in her mind as vividly as if it was actually happening in front of her. She, bent over that table and he, behind her - his groans–

“What!?” She nearly jumped out of her skin as Jamie suddenly touched her arm to ask her something. “I-I´m sorry, what did you say?”, she stammered and blushed as she noticed that his face was splitting into an askew smile.

_Shit…My bloody glass face again_ … she desperately tried to pull herself together.

“Only that there´s ingredients for a salad, if ye want to make one. I´ll start wi´ the sauce and see how it goes”, he answered, a rather smug expression still on his face that made her furrow her brows in irritation.

Standing side by side in the kitchen, slicing vegetables and herbs, preparing the sauce and handing over ingredients back and forth gradually broke down the tension between them. Rich aromas of chopped garlic, basil and oregano started to fill the kitchen. While waiting for the pasta to cook, Jamie opened the bottle of white wine and sipping the wine they even started to tell little jokes and laugh together at the silliness of them. When everything was ready, they decided to just take the steaming bowls of pasta with them and eat in the library.

“You really know how to spoil a girl”, she breathed, contented after their lunch and curled her legs under her on the sofa.

“Ach… you´re easily pleased…but I´m glad if ye liked it”, he smiled. “Now…Claire…Would ye like to tell me what ye´ve been doing lately?”, he added then.

Her relaxed and blissful mood was gone in a second. Okay, now it was time for a serious conversation, it cannot be avoided any longer, she thought, took a long drink of her wine for encouragement and sighed, deeply.

“Jamie…I´m really, really sorry–”, she started, but he interrupted her right away.

“Nay, Sassenach…we can get to it later… if there´s a reason for it… Now..I´d really like to hear what have ye been doing during the past few months?”

She gasped and just stared at him for a while. _God, this man really was something else._

“Well… I´ve been abroad”, she started again, less apologetic this time. “In Africa. For eight months. Came back to England just a week ago.”

“You have? Truly?”, he raised his eyebrows with astonishment. “I thought yer skin looked a wee…well, ye are tan, that´s all”, he added and she could not help blushing under his observing gaze, lingering on her bare arms and cleavage.

“Well, at least now I am. First two months I was red as a cherry. It was rather hot there”, she smiled. Haltingly.

“Why… What did ye do there, if you dinna mind me asking?”

When Claire told him that she had worked as a nurse in the Tanzanian refugee camp, he seemed to be even more impressed.

“Lots of HIV-patients, victims of sexual violence… Many people had been at that camp several times. They had tried to go back to their homes but returned because of violence and political instability…”, she told him about her experiences and he could see the memories stringing through her mind.

“I´m verra proud of ye… Claire. No everyone would be able to do what ye´ve done”, he said, quietly, and leaned towards her to touch gently her arm. “It must have been hard.”

“Well, it was and it wasn´t”, she smiled, somewhat sadly. “I think I needed them as much as they needed me. I´m not a saint, Jamie. It helped me to take my mind off the misery I’d been through here. Gave me some perspective, you know.”

“Aye, I understand…”

“You do?”, she glanced at him quickly, a little surprised.

“Of course. Ye went there to forget everything…”

“Well, not so much to forget and certainly not everything”, she looked at him again, hoping that he wouldn´t think she went there to forget him. “It was more like…I really needed to find myself again. I´d been with Frank so long, all my adult life really. And after what he did… Well, our marriage hadn´t been happy for a long time and then… the horrible divorce. I had no idea who I was anymore. Who Claire Beauchamp was.”

“Is that yer name now?”, he frowned his brows. “Beauchamp? A French name?” 

“Yeah, that´s me. It´s pronounced the English way though.“

“And do ye ken it now? Who ye are?”, he asked, observing her intently.  

“I think I do. Sometimes you have to travel far enough to see close more clearly. It´s a cliche, maybe, but there´s some truth in it.”

* * *

**Claire started to relax** **a bit** even though she knew the most difficult part was still ahead of her. Now she only had to make him forgive her. Make him understand.

“Can I now say I´m sorry? Because I truly am”, she blurted, not able to hold it back any longer.

“For what? What are ye apologizing for exactly?”

Claire watched his face, trying to search beneath the calm expression in his eyes, but could not quite read him. Apparently, he did not want to make it too easy for her.

“I´m sure you know…”, she said, her voice a little shaky. “For not calling you. Just disappearing like that. I was really afraid of coming here, not knowing… whether you would hate me for it…”

Not giving him any time to respond, she continued, talking much faster than usual. She knew she was babbling and her talk sounded incoherent, but she could not help it. She had this desperate need to convince him.

“…but see, I wasn´t myself. Everything was chaotic when I went back to Oxford. Frank was a total arse…I had to call the police to get my things out of our apartment. And I didn´t have much time. I found out about the possibility to go to Tanzania after I went back to Oxford and I was at a loss for what to do. You weren´t there and the time I spent here started to fade away, feel like a beautiful daydream…”

At this point Jamie tried to interrupt her, but it seemed as if once the floodgates were opened, she couldn´t stop the deluge. Words were just gushing out of her.

“… And I just did not trust myself or my feelings. I only knew that I needed to do something just by myself. Not to please someone or because some guy was telling me to do so…And I was not certain. I didn´t know whether I would come back at all and it didn´t seem fair… to ask you to wait for me if… And I didn´t know who I was, for gods sake. I just didn´t know…”

She finally stopped her breathless talk as Jamie stood up and started to walk around the room.

“Some guy? Do ye mean me? That I´d have told ye not to go?”

“Perhaps… I don´t know…No…no, it was more that I´d listened to Frank so long and tried to live my life as he wanted. I used to be strong and independent and I felt like it was my last chance…to find that girl again…”

“Well…”, Jamie considered how to put his thoughts into words. “Ye were right…I was worried about ye… And angry at ye… I think a part of me still is. It sounds like… ye made the decision for me, ye ken. And I dinna like it. Ye decided that I wouldna have to wait for ye. Obviously ye didna have much trust in me nor did ye believe in us - what we had…”

He ran both hands through his hair, mussing it up into a wild mess. His composure was finally shattering.

“I understand ye Claire…how ye must have felt - I do - but bloody hell, you could have written to me if not call! Surely sending one fucking postcard wouldna have been too much to ask? Just to let me know ye are alive, for gods sake.”

He breathed heavily, staring at her, as if unsure what to do next. Couple of times he opened his mouth to say something else but closed it. His last words hit her like a physical blow and she felt deeply ashamed. She had been so overwhelmed by her own situation she had not even thought that Jamie could have been worried about her or feared for her - which now became very obvious.

“I did try to write to you, several times”, she muttered. “And if I could go back time and do things differently, I would. You have to believe me. I am so sorry Jamie”, she tried again, nervously fiddling with the empty glass.

They both fell silent and Jamie turned away from her. He went to the fireplace, knelt down and began to pile logs and paper in the small hearth. There was an old wall clock in the library Claire had not even noticed before, but now she suddenly became aware of the ticking sound. It echoed in her head like a deadly metronome, setting pace for the prisoner waiting for the verdict. She silently watched him light the fireplace and it took couple of minutes until his efforts bore fruit. For Claire it felt like a lifetime.

As the small fire started to grow in the fireplace and fill the room with gentle crackling, Jamie finally turned around and looked at her again, his gaze dead-serious. “I suppose my next question is why did ye come back then?”


	17. "… because I missed you like hell!"

**Eight shelves** \- five books with Latin titles on the first shelf, six written in French, an old British encyclopedia, an atlas of old Edinburgh… Claire stared at the huge bookshelf in the corner of Lallybroch library and counted the volumes - just to to stay calm and fight against the rising panic.  

A slow and resonant ticking from the old clock was getting louder and louder. The rain, whipping against the windows, seemed to make no sound at all. She could only hear the clock clanging in time with the beating of her anxious heart.

“ _Why did ye come back then?”_

Jamie´s question hung unanswered in the silence around them. Claire knew she was supposed to say something, but her mind wasn’t working properly. She couldn’t help but wonder what he had meant with his question. Did he mean that he really didn’t want her here? He had said the blond girl was not his girlfriend but it did not necessarily mean that he wouldn´t have someone else, some other ties whatsoever. Had he lost his interest in her? Was it already too late?

She began to feel the sweat in her armpits, as she knew that she would have no other alternative but absolute honesty. Even if it meant that he would rub it in her face that he no longer wanted her.

She was still sitting on the sofa, her legs curled under her and now she curled even tighter, seeking comfort from her own body. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want me here? Do you want me to go?”, she finally whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Nay”, Jamie looked a little surprised and came to sit again on the sofa beside her. “No, I did ask ye to stay, didna I? But I must know why did ye come back.”

Claire glanced at him, quickly. Her throat suddenly felt too tight to let any words out. Oh, it would have been so much easier to just show him with her body why she came back, but he seemed so guarded and sat so tense beside her it was just impossible to approach him. Clearly he wanted her words, hear the explanation from her lips. But what should she say? That she wanted him more she ever have wanted anything in her life? No… that was too extravagant, wasn´t it?

“I could not forget you. I had these…dreams about you”, she finally muttered. “I kept thinking about you all of the time.”

Three simple sentences. Then she raised her eyes to meet his gaze, waiting for his response, but those slanted blue eyes remained inscrutable. He seemed to think carefully about her answer though, tapping his fingers against his thigh, then running those restless fingers through his hair.

“Ach…I see…Well…I´ve been thinking about ye too”, he said after a moment, but she did not have time to enjoy this revelation for long as he continued  “But what do ye mean by it?”

“What?…I don´t understand…”, she looked at him in startled surprise.

“Do ye mean that ye just felt ye had to come to see if I´m alright, as you said earlier? Or did ye plan to have a wee bit of fun here wi´ me for a few days and then disappear again? Because if that´s it I willna have it. I´ll give ye lift back to Inverness right now.”  

* * *

**He was not hiding** his emotions anymore but let her see everything there was. Needless to say, he was hurt and Claire gasped, realising that she had been right, he wanted everything - or nothing at all. She was almost shivering under his harsh gaze.

“I suppose I deserved that”, she said, quietly, a sense of shame washing over her one more time.

“Aye… .ye did, much more than that, actually”, he answered. His voice was still hard, but perhaps she looked guilty enough as the corners of his mouth crooked slightly.

It was just a hint of a smile, a suppressed one really, but it encouraged her to overcome the physical distance between them. Carefully, she reached to stroke his hand.

“Jamie…I…”

Unable to finish her thought, she probed lightly around his knuckles, wishing she could transmit all her feelings with that simple touch. She looked at his strong and large hand, so warm under her cool fingers, and run her index finger along the veins and the scar that slashed across the back of his hand.

He didn´t respond, yet he didn´t move away from her caressing hand, either.  

Neither of them spoke for a while and she started to hear the solemn tick of the old clock once more. However, this time it sounded less threatening.

Her senses were so attuned to Jamie, she could hear even the small changes in his breathing and smell his unique scent. It was a fresh scent of rain and mountain breeze mixed with sweat, sandalwood, animals, hay… reassuring and intoxicating at the same time. Suddenly, a rash of goosebumps broke out across her arms.

After a few minutes, he finally turned his hand, lacing his fingers with hers and gently squeezed her hand. Letting out a deep sigh of relief, she closed her eyes and relished that simple contact between them.

“Well.. are ye no going to answer me?”, he asked then, his voice rather low and husky.

“Uh… I thought I already did…”

“Nay, ye didna. Not really.”

“I´ve got nothing much to go back to. No job, no apartment… I’ve already risked everything, coming here”, she tried again, raising her eyes to see if he accepted her answer this time.

A mischievous smile began to form in the corner of Jamie´s mouth. “Ach, if ´tis work ye´re looking for, I may be able to help ye. I think a waitress job opened up at our cafe just today. Though it´s not well paid.”

Claire noticed his expression, but she was on the edge and not in mood for joking. No, not even one bit. “Oh damn you”, she huffed and tried to withdraw her hand from his. “What do you want me to say? You really enjoy seeing me squirm and suffer, don´t you?”

“Aye, Sassenach, I suppose I do”, he grinned, not letting go of her hand but only tightening his grip. Then his smile faded away. “I need ye to be honest wi´ me, I need to hear ye say it.”

“Say what, exactly?”

Jamie did not answer. Instead he looked at her, his eyes warm, tender and serious. His look was so intense, so penetrating, she felt he could see straight into her mind. Those blue eyes fixed on her were full of something so deep and true, she felt completely exposed. Uncovered. It frightened her. And all of the sudden it made her angry as well. Claire knew her defence mechanisms were kicking in, but did not care.

“Jesus!”, she grunted. “Alright, I came here… because I missed you like hell! And when I thought about you, these days here started to feel, not a daydream anymore, but more real than I’d ever experienced with anyone before.” She heard her own voice was quivering and it made her even more irritated and edgy. “And no, I didn´t come only to have sex with you but to stay with you, if only you will have me. Are you now satisfied, you bloody man?”

* * *

**Jamie watched the plethora** of emotions slide over her face - confusion-embarrassment-fear anger - thinking that she had never looked as beautiful. As vulnerable. As real.

His own thoughts seamlessly mirrored her feelings. Seeing her confused, made him want to wrap her in his arms and cherish her and protect her with all his might. But that changed in a second as the anger in her eyes provoked totally different urge: he wanted to force her to her knees and made her serve him with her mouth.  

During her last sentences, her golden eyes were blazing, challenging him, and he felt a surge of raw desire shot through him. The feeling was so powerful he hardly heard her words. When he eventually understood what she had said, lust gave way to enormous joy and his face just split into a huge grin.

“If only you will have me…”

Those words were like salve to his wounded soul. She actually wanted him, she came here to stay! A Dhia! Waking up this morning, he couldn´t have imagined that this afternoon he would be sitting here in this very library with her, hearing those words. He could only look at Claire, smiling like a fool, which seemed to make her even more irritated and nervous, but he could not pay attention to that.

“You could bloody say something!”, she finally hissed and he blinked as if her words woke him from a trance.

He was too emotional for conversation so he only opened his arms and whispered “Hush, Sassenach. Enough talk for now. Come here.”

Still feeling overwhelmed by the odd mixture of emotions, Claire did not know what to do at first. Hesitating, she slowly moved towards him - tentatively - as if everything would be evaporated into the air by any wrong movement. She couldn´t just throw herself into his arms, so she carefully snuggled up under his arm and leaned her head on his rising and falling chest, barely able to breathe herself. He instantly wrapped her tighter into his chest and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

The sudden proximity of their bodies sent a shiver through Jamie. It was a primitive possessiveness he felt, screaming mine, mine! He had to suppress the simultaneous urge to kiss her properly and to drag her down to the floor and take her right there.

_Holy Mary, the mother of God_ , he snorted inwardly, amused, _what an effect this woman has on me._

Sensing that Claire was not ready for anything that intimate, but still rather tense, he decided to kiss her to the forehead instead. “Relax, mo nighean donn”, he muttered into her hair.

With slow and long strokes he caressed her back and felt as her stiff body gradually started to soften - melt at his touch. She buried her face into his chest, nudging her nose against him, inhaling him with rather forceful sniffing sounds.

“You never told me what it meant…”, she breathed.  

“Mo nighean donn? Oh, it means my brown haired lass…”, he chuckled, twining her hair around his fingers and admiring her riotous brown curls. Her hair was as wild as he had remembered. Mixture of all possible shades of brown from sepia to sand.

“Oh…do you mean…that…I am…yours, then?”, she asked, her voice muffled into his chest.

“Aye…I knew ye were mine the first moment I saw ye. Or at least I hoped that ye would be. And I never stopped hoping, even though I didna hear anything from ye…”

Sincerity and openness of his words went into her heart like a dagger.

“Oh Jamie… will you ever be able to forgive me?”, she sighed and then unexpectedly started to sob as emotions took over her. It wasn´t sappy, girly sobbing, but loud and noisy. She was trembling against him, grabbing his shirt with both hands as the the tension of the last few hours - of the last days - of the last months finally burst out.

“Hush, Claire… mo gràdh…”, he tried to sooth her, wrapping her against him even tighter. “I´ve already forgiven ye, lass. I’ve already forgiven everything ye could ever do. Hush, now. Everything is okay.”

Thunder roared just nearby, making a sound like a gigantic explosion, but they hardly heard it as just then he slipped his hand underneath her chin and lifted her face up to his face.  Gently he wiped her tear-stained cheeks and pressed his lips to hers.

**The kiss was gentle** , coaxing, chaste. At first their lips came just shy of brushing together. Claire was still swallowing her last sobs and the kiss was salty from her tears.

She had to withdraw from him a bit to wipe quickly her running nose on her shirt. “Shit. I´m sorry. Not very womanly, I´m afraid…”, she said, embarrassed. “I must look a total mess…I don´t know what got into me…”

Unable to stay far from her, he peppered kisses to her cheeks, and then down to her neck. “Hush, dinna fash. Ye looked exactly the same when I first fell in love with ye”, he murmured against her skin, meeting her lips again and running his fingers through her hair.

“mmm…Wait!”, she withdrew once more, her eyes suddenly wide with astonishment. “What did you just say?”

“…Ach, okay…if I´m honest, I wasna sure about it until the next morning, when we talked here in the laird´s room”, he chuckled and tried to reach back to her lips.

“Hey hey, hold on a second”, she pushed him gently away. “You… fell in love with me? The very first day? But you never said anything…”

“Aye, well, is that no obvious?”, he sighed and continued as if he was explaining things to a child . “And I didna say it because I thought ye might find it to be too soon and I didna want to make a fool of myself. But then…”, he cut off the sentence and smiled half-shy, half-sad.

“But then?”, she encouraged him, her heart beating unusually fast.

“But then during this past winter I had time to think, ye ken. And I cursed myself for no telling ye how I felt.  I thought if I had…told ye…maybe things would´ve gone differently…between us. Maybe ye would´ve called me… And I decided that if I ever got another chance wi´ ye, I wouldna hold anything back.”

“Oh.. Jamie”, she became speechless as emotions took over her voice. She bit her lip to fight against the tears as she really didn´t want to cry anymore.

“I didna plan to say it to ye today, though”, he grinned, bending his head down slightly, the boyish and embarrassed look on his face. “It kind of slipped out…”

“I´m glad it did”, she whispered. Shifting in his arms, she swung one leg over his lap to straddle him. Holding his face between her hands, she pressed her lips against his. This time the kiss became deep in no time. Tender became passionate and powerful.

His hands automatically went to her hips, then seeking her buttocks to pull her up hard against his groin. Involuntarily his hips jerked back and forth. “Jesus, Claire”, he panted. “I´m sorry… I just canna help myself… feeling ye this way…”

He couldn´t see her grin, with his face against her chest now, but he could feel it and hear it from her voice. “It´s really safe sex we are practising, isn´t it?”, she laughed softly and then moved her jeans-clad hips against his clear arousal, teasingly.

For several minutes, they just clung to each other like two drowning people, feverishly kissing. Their greedy hands were exploring each other, remembering and making new discoveries.

“Claire… love…if ye dinna think ´tis too soon, could we…”, he breathed heavily against her neck, his lids half-closed and his eyes roaming over her body. He wanted to get rid of those ridiculously tight jeans that showed every tempting curve but prevented him to get as close as he really wanted. He needed to have her, upstairs, under him, as soon as possible, or actually he wasn´t sure if he could make it that far.

There were soft lamb furs in front of the fireplace, he suddenly noticed. Thinking how the shimmering light of those flames would dance over her skin, painting her naked body golden, made him swallow, hard.

He did not have time to finish this tempting thought though, nor did she have time to answer him as all of the sudden he withdrew from her a bit and rigorously cursed through his teeth. “Ifrinn… what the hell! Fuck! Fuck!!”

“What??”, she startled, but then she heard it as well. Dogs had started to bark outside. They glanced at each other and right that moment heard the slam of the car door. “Somebody’s here”, she said, stupidly verifying the self-evident.

“I ken”, he muttered, his face revealing he was furious for the interruption.

“Who could it be?”, she asked and tried to tame her curls away from her flushed face.

A bright woman´s voice came from the hall as an answer to her question. “Jamie! Where are ye? Jamie?”


	18. "Ye should go now, Laoghaire"

**“What the hell is she doing here?”,** Jamie stiffened for a second, hearing the woman´s voice from the Lallybroch hall. Then he pushed Claire away from his lap and straightened himself to his feet so rapidly she nearly fell off the couch. 

He gritted his teeth and quickly adjusted his jeans as he started to make his way towards the hall. “Wait here!”, he hissed at her.

“What? Who is it?”, Claire asked, still puzzled at this sudden change of events.

“Nobody. I´ll take care of it. Just stay here”, he commanded and left the library, closing the doors behind him. 

Claire pulled herself up on the sofa to a proper seated position, feeling rather confused and stupid. What the hell just happened? At first they were kissing like crazy and then he practically threw her away like some rag doll. She straightened herself, looking down at her clothing, and ran her fingers through her hair to look more presentable in case it was Jenny who had come so unexpectedly.

_Shit. I must look like a bloody panda_ , she suddenly remembered and desperately tried to rub away the smeared mascara with her fingers. _As if she didn´t despise me enough already_.

After a few minutes of waiting, she went to pour herself another glass of whisky, just to calm her nerves. She realised that no one was going to come to the library to meet her. On the contrary, Jamie had deliberately left her there, out of the sight of whoever that woman was in the hall. Claire knew she wasn´t well-groomed, her eyes were puffy from crying and her hair was messy - as usual - but still the thought that Jamie would be ashamed of her or try to hide her pissed her off. Then she couldn´t hold back her curiosity any longer.

* * *

**She sneaked towards** the heavy double doors and opened the one - carefully, not to make any noise and only couple of inches to make a quick one-eyed peek outside. She couldn´t see anyone, but heard two rather angry voices down in the hall. Or actually it was Jamie´s voice that was harsh with restrained anger - Claire knew the tone well enough by now. The female voice was more hysteric, she was clearly crying.

“I canna believe that ye could do this to me, Jamie”, she was sobbing.

“To do what, exactly? As I recall, I´ve made no promises to ye. There´s nothing between us, Laoghaire **.** Never was”, Jamie sounded frustrated. 

Claire knew she should leave it there and shut the door, but it was as if her shoes were glued and she couldn´t move. Laoghaire? Who was she? It sounded like the girl from the cafe. Bloody hell, it must be her! 

“Nothing, aye? Ye call pushing yer hard cock against me arse and plunging yer tongue in me mouth nothing?”, the girl´s voice was rising now. 

_Jesus_. Claire felt her heart just skipped a beat. She had been right after all, noticing that there was something between those two. _Goddamned fuckity Fuck!_ Once she got her breath back, she just wanted to kick at something, somebody. Herself, first and foremost - for believing Jamie.

“And how about all these nights here, in Lallybroch, Jamie?” the girl continued. “Having dinners together and building the cafe together. Ye and me, side by side. I´ve seen how ye´ve looked at me, Jamie. I´ve seen it with my verra eyes! Ye canna deny that!”

“I´m sorry if I´ve misled ye, lass, but it was just that one night, aye? And it shouldn´t have happened in the first place – Ifrinn…Who the hell is coming now?…”

Claire emptied her glass in one gulp, noticing that her hands were trembling. She had heard the slam of a car door as well, but didn´t pay much attention to it as the girl´s words just kept on echoing in her mind: yer hard cock against me arse…all these nights in Lallybroch…yer hard cock…nights in Lallybroch… It was like a dark carousel of hell. She closed her eyes but it only made it spin faster. She remembered a sickening moment from her childhood when her parents had put her on a big plastic horse on a carousel, the horse was going up and down and suddenly she vomited all over her clothes and the horse´s neck. She experienced the same sour taste in her mouth right now. Bitterness.

Claire became aware of her surroundings only when she heard Jamie´s voice again.

“Murtagh! What brought ye here, old man?… I suppose Jenny and Ian will be showing up next…”, Jamie said with an ironic tone. 

“…Jamie… Laoghaire”, Claire heard the deep Scottish brogue of Jamie´s godfather. “It was yer sister who asked me to come, really.”

“Aye? And why is that?”

“Weell…ahem…”, Claire couldn´t see what was happening but it sounded like Murtagh was abashed and hesitating over his words for some reason.

“Out wi´it, a goistidh”, Jamie urged. His voice was unusually cold, considering he was now talking to his godfather, who had been almost a second father to him since childhood.

“She asked me to talk to ye lad. She told ye´ve got…uh…a visitor…an English visitor, ye ken. And–”

Before Jamie had time to reply, Laoghaire interrupted the old man with her high-pitched voice. “Aye, and I ken what Jenny thinks! That ye shouldna let that English bitch come near to Lallybroch! No after what that trollop did to ye, how she only used ye and left ye. I´d never treat ye that way, Jamie! I canna believe ye´d choose that cheap Sassenach wench over me! Murtagh, ye must  talk sense into him!”

Claire had to bite her tongue to keep silent. She wasn´t good at taking insults, just lying down. No, she wasn´t the type of woman who turned her other cheek, but eavesdroppers have very limited opportunities to defend themselves, at least if they don’t want to get caught, so she just breathed deeply and tried to keep her head together.

“That´s enough! Ye should go now, Laoghaire. We´re done wi´ talking”, it was Jamie´s voice again. Anger was fizzling through Claire´s blood. Why did the bloody man sound so calm? He wasn´t even defending her properly. 

“And I suggest ye should mind yer tongue if ye ever want to come near  to Lallybroch, because I plan to marry that Sassenach.”, Jamie´s voice was very determined, but being so angry, Claire hardly heard him anymore. “Murtagh, I dinna usually ask ye to leave, but now I must. I hope ye´ll understand. Ye´ve cared for me since I was a wean but I´m a grown man now. Claire has come to stay and ye can tell Jenny that also.“

Claire closed the door and sneaked back to the library. She was able to hear Laoghaire´s yelling through the doors though. “She´ll do it again, let me just say. That Sassenach wench will do it again and there´s no use knocking on my door then, Jamie Fraser!”

The waves of deja-vu suddenly overcame Claire. The nightmare, months ago, back in Tanzania. She had actually heard that dreadful voice before: _“Jamie Fraser was and is mine - and I will be dancing on your ashes…”_ Dear Lord, it was Laoghaire she had seen in her dream. As if the day hadn’t been weird enough, she thought to herself. Then shivering a little, she plopped onto the sofa.

The front door banged closed and Claire heard as the first car left the yard and step on the gas. It must have been her. After a few minutes the other vehicle followed. Claire realised that she had actually started to bite her fingernails, a nervous habit she had abandoned years ago. Jamie did not return to the library and she didn´t know if she should just sit there, wait for him and pretend she hadn´t heard anything. Shit! How could she? Once more she started to hear that evil song in her head, sounding like a twisted lullaby: _yerhardcock-lallybrochnights-yerhardcock-lallybrochnights_ … Eventually, she had to slip her hands between her legs to stop the fervent nail-biting.

* * *

**“Sassenach…”** When Jamie finally returned, Claire stood with her back to the door and pretended she was busy looking at the bookshelf. She couldn´t face him or answer him right away. “Claire?..” 

“Yes?”, she quickly glanced at him over her shoulder and continued browsing the French book she had randomly picked out, without understanding a word of it. Good Heavens, in her current state of mind it could´ve been in English and she probably would have understood as much. 

Jamie didn´t come in but leaned against the doorframe with his shoulder, gazing at her. “Alright, then…”, he sighed after a while. “How much did ye hear?”

Quickly calculating her alternatives, Claire figured that there really weren’t many. With a glass-face like hers, it would be rather useless to lie. He had already seen it in her. “Pretty much”, she mumbled, still avoiding his gaze.

Having another quick look at him over her shoulder, Claire noticed that he was now tapping his fingers against the doorframe. She had already learned that his fingers usually made that rhythm when he concentrated on thinking. She desperately wanted some answers, but hoped that he would start the talking, fearing her words would just explode out like deadly missiles, uncontrollably, causing irreparable damage. 

_Bloody hell, I´ve been cheated once. I´ll be damned if  I´m going get into a relationship based on any sort of a lie!_  Her old wounds reminded her of their existence as well. They were right there, not far from the surface.

Quite unexpectedly, Jamie left the subject there and said: “I should go clean the cafe and feed the puppies. Would ye like to come wi´ me?”

* * *

**Rain had stopped** , leaving the yard full of puddles with big drops plopping down into them from the trees. The air smelled fresh and everything was incredibly green as Jamie and Claire walked towards the barn. 

It could have been a perfect and beautiful spring day, except it wasn´t. They had put their coats and shoes on in uncomfortable silence or at least Claire had felt that way. She knew that if she only had a car right now, she would probably run to it and drive away, as fast as possible, not looking back. But there was only Jamie´s old pick-up in the yard. No opportunities to escape.

“We should pack the pastries and carry the boxes to the kitchen. Clean the tables as well. I suppose Jenny has taken the cash money wi´ her”, Jamie said. Despite all that had happened, he sounded calm and collected.

“Okay, just tell me what to do”, Claire replied. _And, please tell me, what to think_ , she added, inwardly… Less than hour ago they had been extremely close and now there was a barrier between them once more.  

The cafe still looked as cosy as Claire had first seen it, but suddenly she hated the place. All those idyllic lanterns and blue and white checkered tablecloths seemed to scream that _they_ had done it together, Jamie and his Scottish sweetheart, side by side, as that bloody girl had said. Claire started to clear the tables, however, folding up the tablecloths, separating clean and dirty. 

“Lots of cookies left”, Jamie observed as he walked behind the counter. “Do ye want one?”

“No, thank you”, she answered, politely, even though she felt how the frustration was boiling within her. She started to wipe the tables, but with each table her movements became more furious. Jamie glanced at her curiously couple of times while packing the pastries, but didn´t say anything. 

Finally, she could not hold it back anymore but slammed the rag onto the washbasin. She turned around, crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against one table, snorting as she looked at him. Jamie quit the packing and looked up questioningly at her.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?”, he asked.

“Totally! I am fine. Completely, utterly fine. It´s you who´ve had a hard day, I suppose. Putting up with two hysteric and weeping women. Poor _lad_ ”, Claire didn´t know where it all came from. Shit. The moment those words left her mouth, she cursed herself for not making up something smarter. Something that would´ve sounded less…jealous…or bitter. 

A corner of his mouth jerked a little, it lasted only an instant, but she noticed that.

“Don´t you bloody hell dare to laugh at me!”, she snapped and felt a flush start to rise up her neck. 

“I´m no laughing at ye”, he answered quickly, but could not quite hide his amusement.

He hadn´t enjoyed Laoghaire´s visit, not one bit, and since the unpleasant encounter he had been thinking how to talk about it all with Claire, but now he was delighted by the fact that Claire might actually be jealous of him. He just couldn´t help but feel that way. He wanted to possess this woman so badly, therefore the thought she might feel something even slightly similar was just ridiculously arousing. “I was only thinking do ye want me to answer that somehow?” 

“Ugh…It´s all up to you, I guess…”, she grunted, embarrassed and angry. 

“I take ye want to ken what happened in the hall. Is that it?”, he asked, measuring her with his gaze.

“Well, hell yes!”, she huffed. “Don´t you think I´m entitled to it? You said she isn´t your girlfriend?! And I believed you…”

“Aye, I did. And no, she isn´t. I´d never lie to ye, Claire.” His eyes tried to seek hers to convince her of his honesty, but she avoided the eye-contact.

“But… Why did she come back then? I heard her…I heard every bloody word she said! Your cock, included!”, she spitted the words out between her gritted teeth.

Jamie started and cursed silently. _Ifrinn, she **had** actually heard it all_. He seemed to blush as well, but his eyes never left Claire´s face. “Och…I see. Well…I went out wi´ her, once. Last winter. And I kissed her outside the pub, that´s all. But I´ve never lain wi´ the lass.”

“Please…spare me the details!” she shivered, hating every single word of this conversation. “I´ve had quite enough, already. It´s not my business to know what you´ve done.”

“But it seems to bother ye, somehow. Are ye jealous, Claire?” Slowly, he moved towards her, setting the pastry boxes on the bench and leaned against the table, beside her. He crossed his long legs at the ankles, observing her reactions.  

“Me? No! I am not”, she argued, rolling her eyes. “As I said, it´s not my–”

“I hadna heard from ye for months”, Jamie interrupted her. “And I´d started to believe I´d never see ye again. I agreed to go out wi´ her, because.. Aye…I tried to forget ye. But I couldna! That´s why I didna leave wi´her that night. And she isna my girlfriend. Never has been and I´ve never told her so.”

“Jesus…”, she sighed - he was doing it again, disarming her with his sincerity. “…and why should I believe you?” she still tried. 

“Claire…”, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, carefully, not to pull her too close. “I ken you´ve been hurt before, but ye can trust me, aye? And there´s one thing I´d ask of you as well… Honesty. It´s alright if there are things ye´d not wish to tell me, but when ye do tell me something, let it be the truth. And I´ll promise ye the same.”

* * *

**“The truth…”,** she repeated as if she was tasting the word in her mouth. A vaguely familiar flavour she may have once known. Could she really trust this man? This Highlander she had known only for a few days. Could she trust any man anymore? Or was her trust destroyed forever? 

“Aye, Claire. The truth. Will ye promise me that?”

She turned to look at him and saw only his bright eyes, like magnets and she could do nothing but stare at those deep cool-blue pools, that were encouraging her to jump. To throw herself off the cliff and stretch her wings. To take a leap of faith. To give herself up wholly to him - to love - to live again. 

“Yes”, she forced the word into her lips with a kind hard physical effort. “I´ll promise you…And I believe you”, she sighed and bent her head down. “I don´t know why I´m acting this way. Fuck! I´m sorry”, she tried to smile, but didn´t really succeed.

“´Tis okay. Its me who´s sorry for ye having to hear all that…”, he said and smoothed a stray curl behind her ear.

“Yeah.. I suppose… I just… I just hated the thought of you…touching her… like you touch me. Oh, I don´t know. Maybe I should just shut my goddamn mouth now…” 

Jamie tried not to look too delighted hearing those words. She was actually jealous of him. A surge of satisfaction shot through him at the idea. If only she knew how the thoughts of her with another man had tormented him during the past winter. To hide the far-too-pleased expression on his face, he pressed his forehead against her hair, inhaling the slightly herbal scent that lingered about her. Their hands sought each other and clasped.

Claire leaned against him and allowed herself to be calmed by his reassuring presence. Touching him always helped. It was like their bodies had a special language of their own and exchanging information in a way no known language was able to do. 

“I ken some use for yer mouth if ye´re done wi´ talking”, he chuckled into her ear after a while, biting her earlobe gently. “If I recall right, we were in the middle of something when we were interrupted.”

“Really? Some use for my mouth?”, she gave a little surprised laugh and gently poked his side with her shoulder.

He laughed back, seemingly more relaxed now, but instead of kissing her, he abruptly stood up and pulled her up with him. “Nay… I think it best that we get things finished here and then go feed the puppies. It´s been a long day. I wanna get things done and go back inside wi´ ye.”

He gathered her into his arms and held her close. “I wanna take ye to the bedroom and not let ye go for a verra long time. Not until I´ve made ye mine”, he whispered into her ear, his voice smooth and deep. Then brushed her hair out of the way and kissed softly her neck.

His words washed over her like cool water over the stone, leaving her breathless and her body shivering with anticipation, but before she managed to do or say anything he withdrew from her, took the pastry boxes and started to carry them towards the house. Whistling as he went.

  
“Och.. And Sassenach! Remind me to lock the door once we get in. I´d better learn to do it now as ye´re here”, he smirked over his shoulder.


	19. A story of white heathers

**Usually Claire slept** like a baby - she closed her eyes at night and opened them again in the morning when the annoying sound of her alarm clock made it impossible to stay in bed any longer. The past three nights had been totally different though. She had startled awake several times to the smallest of sounds and movements. However, her first thought, even before her eyes were open, was that she never had felt this secure or happy before. She wasn´t alone in bed anymore. Jamie was there, sleeping beside her. She could hear his comforting breathing in the darkness and feel his body against her.

Almost every time she had awoken, Jamie had stirred awake as well. Half-asleep they´d changed positions, whispering sweet nothings, while their arms and legs always remained intertwined like the wreaths of a starving grapevine.  

It was almost dawn now and she knew it was no use to try to sleep anymore. In the faint glow of morning, she admired the relaxed expression on his face as he slept, lying on his back, his chest bare and the sheets barely covering his hips. His face looked so young and innocent like this, she thought, and gently touched the corner of his mouth, just to see if it worked this time. Yes, she was rewarded with the sweetest of smiles, that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Yet he seemed to be sound asleep, breathing heavily. She had found out that her touch made him smile by accident on her first morning at Lallybroch and since then she had tried to make it happen again. That child-like smile was beautiful proof to her that he actually was happy - with her. Smiling to herself, she carefully got out of bed and sneaked to the bathroom.

Jamie stirred in his sleep as if his body was suddenly aware of her absence. He stretched, reaching across the bed to pull her into his arms and opened his eyes as his hands came up empty. Peeking through his lashes, he saw her, standing in front of a big window, watching out. There were no curtains so he could see the scenery she was looking at: the silhouette of an old lighthouse, the ocean, an endless horizon and sea birds, wheeling so far up into the heavens, they seemed to disappear into it. In his eyes, her naked form became one with the dream-like scenery, making it even more perfect. Almost like a poster art.

The past three days had been like a completely beautiful dream. After the winter of despair, this spring was suddenly full of hope and new beginnings. This was actually the first holiday for Jamie in three years. After Laoghaire´s most unpleasant visit to Lallybroch, he had quickly decided that they needed to get away to spend some time together without any interruptions - no visitors, no nosy relatives, no dogs, no work, no nothing. Just the two of them. And fortunately, good old Murtagh had agreed to take care of the farm.

They had spent only one night at Lallybroch and left the next morning, got Claire´s bags from Inverness and drove A82 along Loch Ness towards west, feeling wild, carefree and young. Their only worry was whether Jamie´s old pick-up would survive the spontaneous trip to Isle of Skye. It wasn´t the high tourist season, so Jamie had managed to hire quite a romantic cottage for them for five days.  

It was a perfect place, almost on the shore of Atlantic. Claire instantly fell in love with the old light-house that she was now admiring from their window. The third day was about to begin and they still hadn´t left the cottage. The thought made him smile to himself - first things first - perhaps today they would even go out to see the island and the beautiful scenery he had told Claire about.

But could there really be anything more beautiful than her, he wondered then, letting his eyes linger on the curves of her body; the straight, delicate line of her spine, the flare of her hips and the delicious roundness of her arse. He couldn´t seem to get enough of her.

Right now he could have just watched her, standing there in the dimness of the early morning, but she must have sensed his look as she turned around, a gentle smile flashed across her lips and she walked back towards the bed.

“Sassenach”, he breathed, seeing her round and plump breasts and the curly hair between her legs. Her pale white skin that shone nearly translucent.  He would have wanted to stop her, just to admire her for a bit longer, but forming such a complicated sentence was too much for his sleepy brains and then she already was there; pressing her soft cool body against him.

“G´morning, sleepyhead”, she whispered against his neck, peppering kisses on his chest, teasing his nipples and stroking softly his stomach with her tongue before traveling downward. Jamie tried to reach her, but she gently pushed him down and he could do nothing but groan as she  took him in her mouth.

“Christ…Claire…”, he panted and arched up because he just had to see what her beautiful mouth was doing to him.

“Oh my, it seems you´re fully awake after all”, she chuckled against his morning erection, her hand rolling and caressing his tight balls. “mmm.. you taste so good, darling..”, she whispered and took him even deeper in her mouth.

He felt he could come at the sight of her alone - those smooth thighs and mile-long legs and her round breasts, swaying against his thighs as she pleasured him. The hint of smile on her face while she was doing it. Christ. The tingling started at the base of his spine and he growled at the first signs of his orgasm.

“Sassenach…please…”, he moaned desperately. Almost against his own will he reached her hair and face to pull her up until the length of her body stretched against his.  

“Why did you do that?”

“I dinna want it to be over before it even started.”

“Oh, after spending the last two days in bed, I didn´t think…”, she chuckled into his ear.

“Well, I canna help it. Ye make me feel like a horny teenager again”, he laughed softly and let his hand slide down her inner thighs, separating them with a slightest of touches. He caressed her gently, spreading her folds, and she moaned softly.

That deep sound froze him, like it had done since the very first time he had heard the small noises she made in bed. Since that day he had two goals in life: to make her moan like that as often as he could and to hear her irresistible giggling at least as often.

This must be what love is all about, he thought absentmindedly, watching how her body was shivering under his touch. Giving made him at least as happy as receiving. Or actually those two cannot even be separated: giving was receiving and vice versa.

“Ye look so beautiful, mo ghràidh. I wanna watch ye cum, love”, he whispered and pressed his mouth to her breast, taking her nipple between his teeth, tugging it gently.

“I want you inside me.. Jamie, please…”, she pleaded, her breathing ragged and her eyes no longer focusing.

He couldn´t resist her plea. With a groan, he turned her onto her stomach, slipping his hand under her. Within seconds, he plunged into her and his deep thrust elicited a cry from both of them.

“This is home”, he thought, moving in her and feeling her pushing her hips back against him as though she couldn´t get close enough. “She is my home.”  

And then all thoughts disappeared.    

* * *

**“Sassenach, are ye happy?”** , Jamie whispered, tickling her nose with a straw.

“Yes. Why?”, she mumbled, lying on her back on the moor, her eyes closed.

They had finally left the cottage and both felt blissfully relaxed after two-hour hiking at the Quiraing and enjoying a packed lunch on the hilltop. They were passed by only a few other hikers, called out quick hellos and continued their walk enjoying the solitude and peace. The scenery was breathtaking. Jamie had known the place was a must for photographers on Isle of Skye and he hadn´t been wrong.

“Ye were smiling to yer´self and humming something. I didna recognise the song.”

“Oh… I don´t know if I´ve ever been this happy before”, she sighed and peeked up at him through her lashes.

Claire was utterly happy and could not wait for their life together at Lallybroch, but at the same time she knew that it wouldn´t be all easy. She´d have to win Jenny´s trust, find her own place amongst Jamie´s family and friends and find some work… But right now she didn´t want to think about it too much.  

“The sky seems to be so near, don´t you think?”, she asked drowsily, looking up into the bright blue sky, shading her eyes with her hand. “I wish I´d never have to leave this place. I could just lie here, watch the clouds go by…watch you… oh, mmm… enjoy you - feeding me…”, she ate a chunk of fresh pineapple Jamie placed in her mouth and smacked her lips indulgently. “… mmm… and kissing me…”, she laughed softly and caressed his neck, running her fingers through the soft hair of his nape. “Life would be just perfect, wouldn´t it?” she asked and turned to lie on her stomach.

“Aye, it would”, he admitted. “But I dinna mind sleeping between the soft sheets at night either…having yer naked, sweet, round bum pressed right against me…”

“Oh, you are so tedious…Who thinks about bums in a place like this?”, she scolded him, but couldn´t quite hide her delight.

“Well, I do…I canna help it, the way it´s staring at me right now”, he said and his hand curved down over her bottom. He stroked her jeans-clad buttocks, appreciatively. “It really is a verra nice bum, Sassenach…”

“And it´s staring at you? Nice try, silly…”, she laughed, but suddenly dropped the subject as she saw a beautiful small flower just beside their rucksack. “Look! Is it heather?”, she asked and twirled the bloom between her fingers.

“Aye…”, he said, reluctantly looking away from her round curves which he preferred over those wee flowers Claire seemed to notice everywhere. “It´s only white. It´s quite rare. White heather. Do ye ken what it´s said about it?”

“No, I do not _ken_. What is it?”, she smiled.

“They are considered to be lucky. And there´s a story behind it.”

“Oh, please tell, I´m so ready for a good story right now”, she sighed deeply and curled up into the crook of his arm.

“In the olden times, there once was a bard - a verra skilful poet - called Ossian”, he started with his deep voice, his Scottish brogue thicker than usual. “…And the poet had a daughter. A verra bonny lass called Malvina. She was the fairest of the maids, a white-bosomed beauty and as good as she was lovely. She was as gentle as a lamb, delicate like china and always obedient to her old man. Bad words never came out of her mouth…No fucks or bullocks or…Ouch!…”, he yelped as Claire poked him in the stomach.

“Got it already. She was the meek and obedient type. Too bad for you, I´m not… Go on!”

He chuckled at her comment and continued: “Well…Malvina, she had a fiancé called Oscar. The young lad - he was a gallant warrior, as handsome as he was fearless and brave. He had fought in faraway countries, searching for fame and glory, and met enchanting women whose exotic beauty had led other men to compete for their love, but Oscar, nay, his heart beat for one lass only. For Malvina, the fair.”

“Good for him. There wouldn´t–”, Claire snorted sarcastically.

“Hush, Sassenach, ye´re ruining the story”, he laughed softly and pressed his finger to her lips. “´Tis a sad one, really.”

She gently bit his finger and snuggled closer to him. “Sorry. I´ll try to behave…” Closing her eyes, she wondered if Jamie´s father had told the ancient story to him just the way he was doing it now…and whether Jamie would do the same to his own children one day. The thought made her shiver a little. Perhaps he would tell stories to their children - hers and Jamie´s. She got so carried away with the idea, she nearly missed the rest of the story.

“…On one beautiful autumn day, Malvina and her father were together on the moor. They were waiting for Oscar, who was supposed to come home from some warlike expedition, but instead of the gallant warrior, a wounded and tired messenger dragged himself over the hill, kneeling before them. He was holding a bundle of purple heather and told Malvina the flowers were a last token of love from Oscar, who had been killed in the battle. Soft tears began to roll down her cheeks, falling on the purple heather, which immediately became white…”

“Oh”, Claire sighed. “It really is a sad story. How these flowers are supposed to bring any luck then?”

“Well, because pure-hearted Malvina hoped that white heather would bring good fortune to all who found them, even though it was a symbol of her own sorrow”, he explained, adding “White heather is a special bridal flower in the Highlands.”

“Oh”, she said again, staring at the little, modest plant on her hand.

Jamie glanced at her, took the flower from her, a wee knife from their rucksack and started to roll the twig between his fingers. They both fell silent, immersed in their thoughts.

* * *

**“Sassenach, d´ye believe in signs?”** , he asked after a while.

“Signs? What sort of signs?”

Jamie didn´t answer but continued his chore. He looked deeply concentrated, furrowing his brows. Claire glanced at him and caressed his chin, feeling the rough growth on his jaw under her fingers.

“Well, maybe I do”, she said, realising that he wouldn´t say anything more. “Sometimes I have these feelings, you know. I don´t know if they are signs, but more like you suddenly know the way things really are. You know what you should do as if somebody or something told you that. Like when I visited Lallybroch for the first time–” she cut-off the sentence, looking a little embarrassed.

He lifted up his gaze and gave her a curious look, arching an eyebrow at her. “How did ye feel? Ye were still wi´ Frank then.”

“Uh.. It may sound really stupid…”, she continued, hesitating. “But I kind of felt like the mountains were talking to me”, she blurted and felt how a sudden blush came across her face.

“Aye? What they were saying?”, he asked as if it were the most common thing in the world.

_Well, he is a Highlander after all_ , she thought, realising his expression hadn´t changed a bit.   _Perhaps they are used to much stranger things than this happening._

“All kind of things”, she tried to smile. “Of people, a long time passed away. But for me…For me they were saying that I belonged here.”

“Really?”, he asked interestingly. “In Scotland or in Lallybroch, precisely?”

“Oh, I don´t know. I didn´t believe any of it, back then. I thought I was losing my mind”, she huffed, a little surprised he seemed to take it so seriously.

Jamie examined the thing he´d been working on, squeezing his lips like he wouldn´t be completely satisfied with the result but it had to do. She almost gasped aloud, seeing now what he´d been doing. It was a ring, a small twine ring made of that heather she had found on the moor. She didn´t know how but still she knew for certain what was going to happen next - and it made her mouth go dry and her heart beat like there were a scared bird fluttering in her chest.

“Sassenach…Claire…”, he started, letting out a nervous cough. “This isna what I first had in mind but now it feels like ´tis a right time and place… You finding this wee flower and all…I´m glad the mountains were telling ye that ye belonged here, because I´ve known that since the first time I saw ye standing in my yard. Ye looked like a fairy, standing there, yer wild curls blowing in the wind and I thought that I’d never seen anything so beautiful… I may still think ye´re from another world, after all, it was the eve of Beltane when ye came back to me”, he grinned, a little shyly.

Claire could not smile, nor could she move. It was as if everything around them was frozen and still. No breath of wind to carry any sounds. The birds quieted down. Still smiling, Jamie showed her the twine ring and she swallowed hard, trying to hold back the hot tears that were ready to fall down to her cheeks.

“I only hope ´tis no too soon for ye, but Claire, will ye…I´d be honored if ye´d agree to marry me. To be my wife”, he swallowed hard after his words and looked at her, his eyes full of tenderness and a hint of uncertainty. Those deep blue eyes that had encouraged her to spread her wings, to trust him, were doing it again. Asking her to fly, now even higher.

Not able to talk, Claire gave him her left hand and let him slid the ring on her finger. It was large and twirled around it. Once there had been an expensive golden band, but those vows had turned out to be worthless. Now there was a modest, handmade twine ring, but she felt it was the most valuable thing in the world.

“I take ´tis yes?”, he asked, his voice hoarse with affection. “I´ll give ye a proper ring once we´ll get back home. But I just felt this is the place to ask ye, the top of this mountain.”

She nodded furiously and then buried her face against his chest. He laughed softly at her reaction and wrapped her into his arms, whispering soothing gaelic words into her hair as he had done so many times before. She could only feel the warmth of him upon her face and the cool breeze behind her.

Birds started to sing again.

“You really have to teach me some gaelic”, she whispered after she had calmed down a bit. “I only know one sentence. I learned it in Tanzania when I decided to come back.”

“Aye and what is that?”

She didn´t have courage to say it in English, but it didn´t mean she wouldn´t have known it for sure. “Tha gaol agam ort, Jamie.”

“And I you, mo Sorcha.”


End file.
